Susan, I saw those boots at Target today and was so tempted to get Liv a pair! I resisted. She got some pink snow boots instead. I'll wait until Spring to get her a pair of rain boots.

When they see him in his gear you can mouth "I'm trying to gay him up!" to them.

Tell them that you're hoping he'll be neater if you gayify him with pink. (One of my gay friends has been known to say mournfully, "All the guys I meet are neat and like show tunes." He is the world champion of mess and the show tunes? Not so much.)

Today I went to the dentist and then bought poinsettas, a rosemary plant and some decorations from my local nursery, which has declared Chapter 11 because of the drought. I'm trying to think of things to buy there, because without them, I'll be at the mercy of a couple of high-priced nurseries and the big-box stores. Then I had an appointment at the frightening pink place for mastectomy and lymphedema supplies. Why would I ever wear a t-shirt with a pink ribbon and the word "Survivor" on it in pink rhinestones? Why am I in particular need of the world's sappiest plaques and angels? And, while I'm ranting, does it seem psychologically sound for the mastectomy and nursing supplies to be in the same department? Then I went to Costco and Christmas shopped. I got no work done and I would like to never leave my house again.

eta: You're not bad mothers. Really. I have been to the dentist twice a year all my life. I brush. I floss. I get glowing reviews of my homecare from the dentist. My baby teeth were full of cavities and my mouth today is a sea of gold inlays. I made the terrible genetic error of inheriting my mother's teeth. Susan, you did what a good mother would do: you brought dry shoes. It is not necessary to be perfectly prepared for every occasion.

And, while I'm ranting, does it seem psychologically sound for the mastectomy and nursing supplies to be in the same department?

WTF?

Ginger, I prefer this t-shirt if I'm going to wear something for the cause.

Tell them that you're hoping he'll be neater if you gayify him with pink.

I should be so lucky if he decided to be neat. *sigh* He's just in the stage where he's struggling to assert himself in any way possible and his wardrobe choices are the least stressful for me. I'll let him wear a purple tutu if it means he's going to listen to me for a little while and not push his sister down or smear apple sauce all over the dining table.

(One of my gay friends has been known to say mournfully, "All the guys I meet are neat and like show tunes." He is the world champion of mess and the show tunes? Not so much.)

If he ever comes out this way, there's a gay social club that meets semi-regularly to be out about their guyful gayness. They're proudly queer sports-jersey-wearing beer-drinking baseball fans who don't like show tunes or clubbing.

They're proudly queer sports-jersey-wearing beer-drinking baseball fans who don't like show tunes or clubbing.

I'd say that the gay evil twin needs to know about this, but I suspect he's already messed about with half of them.

(Still, great guy to go to baseball games with. He truly appreciates the proper balance between obsessing about the scorecard and ogling muscular player ass. Which is to say, plenty of both.)

Why would I ever wear a t-shirt with a pink ribbon and the word "Survivor" on it in pink rhinestones?

So you're ruling out a career in reality tv?

t thread drive-by

I didn't have to go to jury duty today, so I got to meet the new Head candidate.

I. LOVE. HER.

Whee!

Not on my head, but actually wearing them and looking through them.

I did this just a few days ago in the car. Right after I had put on my sunglasses, I looked in my glasses case for my sunglasses and was baffled for a good twenty seconds at how my regular eyeglasses could possibly be in there when I need my sunglasses and where are my sunglasses? Oh yeah. You just. put. them on. In my defense it was a very bright day.

tuna salad

I. LOVE. HER.

YAY!

in stomach news: mine seems to have something very important to say. It's been mumbling away down there for a good ten minutes. I wish I spoke gurgle.

crackers

today all of my measurements of time shall be in the form of "a good ___ minutes"