It's probably because I'm tired and haven't had sleep for a thousand hours, but today I am worn out by
~selfish men (especially of the gay variety, who typically see women as mother or hand servant) (which amounts to about the same thing)
~cold neighbours (who used to be friendly until one of the husbands was too friendly with my pretty daughter)(and his wife wasn't pleased)
~lack of editing work (which is true right across the board for everyone I know who edits)
~patronizing people in general (if Danny had taken any more time to explain audio levels to me we would have run smack into 2010)
~sons who take light years to answer their email (BIG sigh...)
~high-caloric, fatty food (of which I eat too much and too often)
So it is with great pleasure that I recount a few small phrases from my three-year-old granddaughter, all spoken today:
"I love you grammie."
"I am going to clean the floor so hard for gramps."
"You are a squishy bologna sandwich, grammie."
"Can I have a treat? Is it okay?"
"I love you grammie."
"Oh, sorry grammie. I got in the way."
"The cow jumped right over the moon!"
"I don't like tomatoes. They have seeds. I don't like seeds."
"I love you grammie."
The best part in all of this, of course, is that she, Lainey, is not a selfish man, a chilly neighbour, an ex-employer, a tardy son, or patronizing. And while she might just be the sweetest thing on earth, she doesn't add a calorie to my body, although I wouldn't care -- and she wouldn't notice, because she thinks I'm beautiful -- if she did.
~
Post script: the next day, when I opened my email, I had nine messages from gay men. Not one or two or three, but NINE. All the messages were either funny or warm or completely kind, or all three, and two were invitations. Somebody shoot me.
