Have you ever…

“Mom, have you ever been dumped?”

-“Yeah, I guess I have.”

“Why?”

-“Guy was an idiot. Or I was an idiot. Maybe both.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get dumped.”

-“Why would you say that?”

“I just have a feeling that’s my path.”

Ugh.

Not a great day

Went to the dog park. We have a big, black dopey dog who’s merely a dog. She’s not my baby, my boo boo, my cupcake. She’s a dog. Just a really good dog. She was attacked by a vicious little snit dog, who was definitely someone’s sweet pea, child, probably eats steak every night. That kinda dog. Things didn’t end well. At least they ended. Nothing’s as awful as watching two dogs go at it. Oh, and while my dog is merely a dog, she’s also merely a really, really big dog. And she can haul ass and when pushed, she’ll turn around and let you know who’s not going to come out on top. Dogs were separated, mean words exchanged, L said, “it’s time to go home. I’m very sad now. That was very upsetting and it’s time to be at home where we’ll chill and relax and the day will get much, much better.”

It did.

Here’s what I’m talking about

So this is why I started writing about L. For almost eight years, I’ve shared things he’s said with other people and they’ve all said, “whoa, he’s… deeeeep.” The other day, he said he very much needed a gas mask. I explained why that wouldn’t be necessary, save them for people who need them. He said, “but, mom, you really can never be too prepared.”

I fret. I tell my bestie about it. Her response: “I’m going to build a safe room.”

Me: “Don’t you think it’s odd?”

Her: “I think he knows something we don’t.”

I stockpile canned goods.

He was born talking.

Finally getting to this. It’s been on my to-do list for 7 years, 11 months and 12 days. I’m not big into the whole “time flies” thing. But it does manage to sneak by if you’re not keeping track.

L was born talking. I’m not saying he was speaking in iambic pentameter, but the fellow was babbling. As in, “baaa baaa baaa.” The slap on the behind followed by a yowl did not happen.

Foreshadowing, indeed.

Man, it’s bright out here.