Menopause is not for me. But P.M.S. is even more not for me. Something very small was very big to a beautiful girl, with a tender heart, at the wrong time. We've all been there. Larin and I we're trying to tell her....and she kept saying,"Don't point at me!" So, I pointed at the air. Like Moses. My daughter, who had this incident happen to her today, laughed about it this evening. I really want all mother's of girls to know that I didn't say anything to chastise--who am I to judge? I used to throw things. I really did. I just tried to pick stuff that wasn't my favorite stuff and crashed it---made lots of noise.
Is it a Menopause thing to throw your reading glasses on the table? I did that a month ago. If you come in my kitchen would you look for one of the lens? It's invisible. I don't need it. I only pick stuff to throw that is worthless, remember? I just don't want the grandchildren to find it. No telling what will happen if they do. I can imagine...VCR, DVD, down the garbage disposal, in the toilet, through the electric fan, in my shoes or Steve's fire boots, (Heh, heh, marbles are worse!) If the 'trash panda' baby finds the lens, he might eat it. He chews rocks...?
Yeee---aaahhh. TMI today. And I'm ready for sleep. I am putting on earphones, so I can't hear the alligators growling and grunting outside my window. My music is going to be The Tabernacle Choir, up loud.
P.M.S. Girls Are Fun or Are They Funny?
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