Tummy-ache twins

I was all dressed up and ready to leave the house for work today. And then the train took off and I am still talking and typing from my bed 10-ish hours later. With no end in sight.

It’s all good.

I cracked the whip all over the place today and I think it hit me in the head a few times. Without getting into it too deeply, I’m sick of the “tummy-ache twins.”

If there’s a deadline or a problem or whatever, they get a tummy-ache. One will give you the excuse the second you ask (and you ALWAYS have to ask), and the other will wait four days to say he had a boo-boo but he’s all better now.

I had the metaphorical “doormat” tattoo removed over the holiday. You want mummy to give you Vapo-Rub? Tough titty, said the kitty.

We’ll see how long they last.

I have said this phrase one million times in my life: I will kiss your ass till I have to kick it.

Well, Mummy’s got some new boots and she ain’t afraid to use ’em.

Also, it’s too cold for flip-flops right now. Maybe that’s a good thing. For all of us.

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