Painting Myself Into a Corner
byI may not be able to run like I used to, but jeez I can still move when I need to.
The blog, the whole blog and nothing but the blog.
I may not be able to run like I used to, but jeez I can still move when I need to.
I’ll say this for Miss7, she’s got balls
Thought I’d get the important bit out of the way in the post title
Sometimes your kids give you a glimpse of what life might have in store for them. It’s horrifying, isn’t it?
Well, this was unexpected. Unexpected, unwanted, unnecessary and completely unbelievable. All of the un words. Right up until the truth was uncovered.
“You did not,” Tracey gaped at me. “Are you really that much of an idiot?”
I don’t know why she insists on asking me questions she already knows the answer to.
Okay, I think enough time has passed I can probably tell this story without naming names or pointing fingers.
Thought I’d dispense with the awkward bit in the title.
I have a confession to make: my name is Bruce and I have an issue with earwax.
Only one slight issue this Christmas.
Why do we do it? Why do we buy so much food for Christmas Day? And what do we do with what’s leftover?
A squeal of delight had me ducking into our bedroom yesterday, eager to see if I could be included.
What would you do with this grand ol’ girl if you were given her? The right answer to that question might be your ticket to a new life. Hopefully not, though. I want it bad.
I let Tracey choose the photo for this post as a birthday treat. Big mistake it turns out.
First, a little background. Last week I posted a story told to me by my brother (highly recommend you read this post first: No…