Jeff and I are fighting. Well, he's actually at work. I'm at home thinking about getting ready to go into work. I'm also trying to figure out exactly why we're on the outs. We'll see each other again after 8pm tonight. Then we'll probably make up or, depending on our mutual moods we might wait until the weekend. Thing is, no matter how much we piss each other off, seems that there will always be a make up in the future. I like our make ups. They start off very slow. Tentative. And then, suddenly, when we both realize how much of a dumb, insensitive jerk he's been (ok...sometimes I have a bit to do with it too) we'll rush together in a slobbery mess. A few more jabs (partly in jest and partly to say 'ya, but it really hurt...don't forget it 'k?') and then we can carry on. Last night I was upset and my son asked if daddy had hurt me. I said that he had hurt my feelings so Aryn told me that he would jump on daddy's head. I had to laugh.
Woke up this morning to more visions of terror on the radio and tv. Wonder what it will take for the world to make up with itself?
1 comment:
P and I are fighting.
I have no desire to make up, as there are no slobbery messes that I look forward to.
Had horrible nightmare about Moka dying in a pipe (can you say "tube") night before last. I am not prophetic (re: London), but I do wish - like you - that the world would wake up and make up.
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