It's damn hot.
It's muggy and hot and sunny and hot.
I fear I have added myself to the list of people who complain about the weather and that is okay.
It is not the first (or last) unsavory list I have been on.
Right now I am laying on my bed, trying to figure out why the sound of my daughters laugh, is the purest, most amazing sound I have ever heard.
I have three kids and I swear, I love them all (and their laughs) but her... it takes me somewhere.
And I am still hot.
We went to the Commons today and played in the water, had lunch and I blazed the homeless drunks with my mind bullets. I wish I had a good idea of what to do with them... I guess we will all live in non-harmony until my kids are too big for the park, or they all die of alcohol poisoning.
It is sad and I know I sound cold, but I'm so tired of it. All of it.
The trash, the cussing, the smoke, the filthy shopping carts full of E. Coli. The piss smell, the way they all take up the benches with backs on them. The one's I would like to use for nursing.
Much of the grass is full of bodies. On a hot day like today, I am quite sure one of them had perished.
No one would know, it looks the same as yesterday.
I hate that yet another blog entry is devoted to this, or at least the beginning of it.
With the sound of my kids in the other room, giggling and laughing themselves silly. It is a shame I am not writing about them and Elvis' 4th birthday party we had last week.
I am sad that I am not sharing the fact that she had a great time and cried like I haven't seen her cry in a long time- when the pinata rules were laid out. She had no idea there would be a line of kids waiting to hit the thing. I guess while making the cake (I cheated, recipe below) and decorations- making delicious tea sandwiches that go better with a beer and gathering all of our friends to celebrate with us. Four glorious years with the one and only Elvis Glo Danger Daly... I forgot to mention the pinata is something everyone gets to hit. Everyone, ideally, gets a smack at it and this didn't sit well with the lady.
She cried hard. She was in no way prepared or wanting to let anyone at that thing. I think the bottom line for her was that she wanted to bust the shit open and she knew, as well as everyone else, there were about 6 boys 9 and up waiting for that thing...
anyway, it made for a great picture and of course a good story, she will most likely hear for the rest of her life. I will try to be one less person reminding her of that, right after this post.
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