You'd be wrong.
He felt deep and abiding humor.
Me: "It's not [deep] funny! I'm not [high pitched] doing it on pur-[crack, pitch change]-pose!" [violent coughing fit]
Him: "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you."
Yes, "caaawwwk" is a sound you make when you are sick. Look it up.
Anyways, no blogs got written, no photo class reading/homework got done, my support network made sure the baby saw sunlight and mental stimulation other than her mother curled up on the couch and coughing. Basically, my life blows. The only good part of this whole thing is that I realize day-care may not be the abandonment my wholly unnecessary parental guilt is telling me it is since she will have tons of activities when I get ill -- which I will assume will be every 3 weeks until she's 3, if this keeps up.
I did mention she's not sick, didn't I? Oh no, she's spry as a chicken. So spry she reduced me to tears because she didn't want to change her diapers and I was too weak to chase, cajole or convince. I had to wait til she got near me and pounce...weakly. Toddler Flails-a-lot is the most easygoing kid you've ever met until it comes time to change clothes, then she becomes a lunatic. I already hate the terrible twos.
So enough about my miseries, here's possibly the greatest song ever sung while hung on a cross. If you laugh, it's blasphemy.
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