Sorry, vw. She hadn't seen us in person since then so she hung on to it. It's what she does.
'Safe'
Spike's Bitches 42: Which question do you want me to answer first?
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Oh, ok. Gotcha. Still. Grrrrrr.
Happy birthday, Ginger! My retroactive birthday wish will make this week totally sugar, but also accident free.
Sorry the stepmother is tetchy on the topic of her stepness. Sounds like a great time to refer to her affectionately using the diminutive of her given name that annoys her most, in the most cheerfully oblivious fashion possible.
Did I miss your birthday, Ginger? Hope it was happy, whenever it was/is.
Sorry the stepmother is tetchy on the topic of her stepness. Sounds like a great time to refer to her affectionately using the diminutive of her given name that annoys her most, in the most cheerfully oblivious fashion possible.
I misread that totally; I thought that TCG's *mom* doesn't like the stepmom being referred to as the stepmom, because her very step-ness is offensive to the DNA contributor.
But I suppose I read that through my lens of having step-family.
Teppy read it right. Sorry for the confusion.
Teppy read it right.
Score one for the step-kid!
Daylight Savings weekend means I'm already ready for bed at 9:20. Good lord. On the other hand, since The Boy had double-hernia surgery Wednesday, I've been taking care of him AND doing all the housework and pet feeding. I didn't realize how much it is for one person.
Also? I was right 11 months ago when I moved in and said I could NEVER clean the litter boxes because the litter dust would trigger an asthma attack.
signed,
had to prove it the hard way AND very thankful for a functional inhaler
Teppy read it right. Sorry for the confusion.
That's ... making the kind of sense that isn't. Sorry.
I don't "officially" have asthma, but I do recall growing up cleaning the litter box always resulted in me (1.) controlling the urge to retch, and (2.,) having trouble breathing for a long time afterwords, to the point of almost blacking out.
Now the first symptom is likely psychosomatic, but it might have a purging component, the second reminds me of hypoxia.
Twenty years later, I gladly leave the litter chores to Andi, despite my feeling guilty not cleaning them for her.
ETA: Not that I didn't find tricks I would employ should Andi need my assistance. A large t-shirt tucked into my pants and pulled up past my nose helped a lot way back when...Air mask might help.