He's such a drama king.

Please understand that my son can't hit the broad side of a barn with his pee. If it came to writing his name in snow, it would be a sanitary disaster and would require plastic sheeting for all. I heard Russell explain to Mike that he has to run into the bathroom really fast to pee and sometimes hits the floor. Mike told him,"So sit down!" I got my revenge with a bucket of lysol ridden water and attitude. I have to have attitude to cover up the fact that I cannot bend over without looking really comical.

Oh, just shut up. Stop giggling, dammit.

I was supposed to go to all these places and get my baby registering done for the baby shower I'm about to send invites out for and I didn't do squat. I had figured I'd be doing that today, but this morning, the whole day went to shit when after breakfast I had a 151 and had to walk. It wasn't the walking or the sugar, but I just felt like shit all day and I have no idea why, but it seems to have started off that way from the high sugar and the walk.

I walked, cramped, sat on various benches and tried really really hard to look like I meant to do that, i.e., sit out there on a pretty crisp morning in a pair of shorts and a tank top on the verge of freezing my ass off. I felt like the darned cat. You know when they are so happy that you've deigned to pet them that they fall off the back of the couch in ecstasy landing on their feet, of course, and then get this little shiver to their spine and they refluff their tails with a look that says,"I meant to do that. I am not stupid. You stop laughing now or I'll give you fleas."

And that's another thing. We've still got house fleas. I was sitting in the comfy recliner chair and had this flea on my arm that I thought was a dot until it jumped. I cussed and then couldn't find it to pop it and I'm getting new bites. We've been trying to keep the cats out because they're shedding gangbusters in tufts and clumps and I simply don't want to inhale it, but we need to start letting them in for the flea killing thing. They've been given flea birth control and advantage aka FLEA DEATH, so I am going to let them in tomorrow morning to soak up the fleas out of everything and then we'll just have to vacuum the fluff out of everything.

I'm still nesting. It's sick and wrong and I think it may need to be dusted. I took two boxes of crap papers and threw out most of them and organized the file box and rewrote the little tabs and everything. The Nesting Nazi is back.