Tired Mama.com

Hockey Night in CRAZY Land.

The hockey game is blaring from the TV in the next room.

Since it's Saturday night this isn't surprising as most Saturday nights my husband or son has the game on.

But tonight my son is actually at the game and my husband is out of the country.

My daughter is home with me, but she doesn't usually watch Saturday night hockey.

So, why is the game on?

I turned it on.

Yep, me.

I put it on as it was so quiet around here I couldn't think.

And that my friends, is mind blowing because usually I'm BEGGING for quiet here so that I can concentrate on what I have to get done.

Tonight I felt differently and I have no idea what this means.

Except of course that it's probably another measure of how fast I. AM. LOSING. MY. FREAKING. MIND.

Sigh.

Christmas Baking...

I'm doing some Christmas baking this week.

Yes, I know it's almost March.

But I like to bake, and so I tend to print and save quite a few recipes as I stumble across them on the internet, in magazines or in my hometown paper.

And today, as I was trying to make sense of all the papers in my office, I realized that quite a few of the pages that I had to either file or recycle were recipes.

So, I'm going to spend the next few weeks trying them and taste testing them so I can decide which ones I should keep and which ones I should get rid of.

I don't think my family or friends are going to complain if I try a few new cookie and cake recipes out on them over the next few days and weeks.

The downside of this of course, is that after a few weeks of munching, I'm probably going to have to go downstairs and get on the treadmill and uh, run.

Because by the time I finish testing the recipes I’ve saved it'll almost be shorts and swimsuit season.

And after a month of baking I'm probably gonna need to either exercise or start shopping for some bigger sized warm weather clothes.

And I hate shopping for bigger sizes.

Sigh.

 

Tired and Cross-Eyed Mama

I just finished applying for University.

Okay, I just finished helping my oldest daughter apply to University.

But, I gotta tell you, with all I had to do I kinda feel like I just applied myself.

I tried to just help and not hover, but honestly?

For some of these programs, she needed someone to help her. 

All of the programs she applied to required supplementary essays. Most of the programs asked for resumes. They all had applications that needed a second eye to look them over and make sure at least all the boxes were checked off correctly.

She also applied to several studio art related courses that required large portfolios to be created, then photographed, color-checked and finally uploaded.

Everything had to be double-checked and triple-checked before it was sent.

Most of my daughter's applications were fifteen-checked.

Don't get me wrong, my daughter did the majority of the work but I read and re-read everything until my eyes were crossed this week.

And now, with the exception of the one application she is still working on, she's done.

And now, she waits.

And so does her cross-eyed Mama - with all my fingers crossed.

How Old Do I Look?

I was out shopping for my twelve year old daughter today and I ended up at a popular tween store looking at hooded sweatshirts and trying to decide between two sizes for her.

Across the display from me was a woman with a young girl, about my daughter’s age and size, who was pulling on the same sweatshirts and zipping them up to check for the right size.

I politely called over and asked them what size the girl was trying on, explaining that I was trying to figure out the correct size for my own daughter.

They told me and I thanked them.

As they walked away, the mother, a lady about my age, told me she hoped my GRANDDAUGHTER liked the sweatshirt I had picked.

I sputtered out to her retreating back that I was buying it for my daughter, not my granddaughter.

I don't think she heard me.

And then?

I laughed.

But honestly, thinking about it now?

I should have slugged her.

Granddaughter. 

Hmmph.

Black Boots

'What's in the box?' my husband asked me the other day as I signed for a delivery from the UPS cutie guy.

'My new boots,' I told him.

Later on as I was trying on the new boots he came and admired them.

He then asked the inevitable.

'How many pairs of black boots do you need?'

He has a point. I don't really collect a lot of things, I actually try and keep things around here clutter-free, but I do seem to have a fairly extensive collection of black boots.

I think it's inevitable. I live in Canada, we need boots to keep our feet warm and with the changes in fashion I tend to buy a new pair of boots every few years. Also, black just works with everything.

So, 

I have a pair of ugly but really REALLY warm black boots that I wear to walk the dog.

I have high length flat-heeled black boots that I wear with jeans.

I have high-heeled high length black boots to wear with skirts.

I have high-heeled low cut boots to wear with dress pants.

I have last year’s high-heeled high length boots that are kinda scruffy so they don't look good enough to wear when I get dressed up but they still look too good to give away.

I have the flat-heeled low boots that I thought were comfortable enough to wear with casual clothing when I bought them but, they're not really that comfortable, so I don't wear them a lot now.

I have the black boots that I bought with the lovely red heels that are super cute but they don't go with much of what I own so they only get worn when I wear my red sweater and I remember to pull them on.

And then finally, I have a black pair of Uggs that I bought because everyone else around me had Uggs so I thought I should too. But now, I don't wear them that much because I really don't want to wear the same boots as everyone else. 

Which makes it um, eight. I own eight pairs of black boots. And, I guess if you're counting, with the new pair I now have um, nine.

Nine.  

It's a lot but I figure as long as I'm in the single digits I'm still good.

Right?

Right.

Sigh.

What's the point(s)?

Do you have a wallet full of point/reward cards?

I do.

Can anyone tell me why?

I mean, I probably have enough 'frequent flyer' points to get me to the end of the runway using my AirMiles card and this is after collecting with it for ten years.

Ten.

In my wallet I carry around one credit card that I use for everything, a bank debit card, my driver’s license, my health card and about seventy store point cards.

My purse must weigh an extra ten pounds because of all of them and my back is permanently cricked from the extra strain.

But I also can't bring myself to throw them out as they might be worth something one day.

Sigh.

So, here’s my solution. Can someone just come over and steal my wallet? There's no cash in there so you won't get rewarded for your trouble but my neck and right shoulder will thank you.

Please?

Find Me a Cave

This morning, when my alarm went off, it was still dark outside.

It's not even 9 am yet but all I want to do is go home, climb back into bed and go back to sleep.

I have gotten the kids where they need to be and I am where I need to be but I'm not sure I'm awake.

It's cold.

It's winter.

Cottage weekends are a long way away and Christmas is over.

Hibernating seems like the only sensible thing to do.

Who's with me?

Peter Pan is my role model

My daughter turns eighteen in five days.

Eighteen.

And tomorrow she gets on a plane to leave home to return to school.

So, I won't be with my girl on her eighteenth birthday but I'm okay with that because we celebrated her birthday as a family today.

My baby is almost all grown-up. She's spent the last two weeks applying to colleges and universities and is busy planning her future.

It's all good. Fantastic, even.

But what I can't understand is how she got to be so old while I'm still so young.

I know, according to the math, I'm old enough to have a child this age but I don't really feel like I'm old enough to have a daughter this uh, OLD.

Honestly, most days I still kinda feel like I'm twenty-something.

I'm sorta like Peter Pan in that I don't want to grow up or get older.

Actually, I'm okay with the idea of being a little bit older and having to be independent and responsible, I just don't want to get really old and fall apart physically and uh, lose what I still have left of my mind. 

Sometimes, like tonight, I feel like I'm heading to old age at lightning speed.

Still, according to Google Peter Pan was created in 1902 and he looks pretty spry and wrinkle-free for 110.

So, I guess there's hope.

I hope. 

How old do you feel?

Appy New Ear

I ab a old.

Actually, I've had a cold since before Christmas and I honestly thought that when I got through the Christmas stress rush that I would just grab a few nights of good sleep and my cold would be gone.

It's not.

And tonight, when I should be out ringing in 2013, I'm staying in because my cold is slowly morphing today into something that feels like the flu.

So, for those of you hoping to see me tonight? I'm staying home.

You're welcome.

I have been washing my hands so much this Christmas season they are now red and raw.

I have cleaned my house repeatedly over the holidays. 

I am still sick.

I. AM. DOING. SOMETHING. WRONG.

So, today I sat down and read through the Hygiene Council's web site and I learned a few things.

Actually, I learned a lot.

I learned that my kitchen sink contains 100,000 times more germs than a bathroom. I learned that the flu virus can remain active on surfaces for up to 48 hours and I discovered that 52% of the kitchen taps they tested were found to be contaminated with harmful bacteria like Ecoli.

So, starting today I'm going to fight my cold in a new way. I'm going to begin by using disposable cloths in my kitchen and I'm also going to switch from using a detergent to clean my kitchen to using a disinfectant.

And hopefully my friends, soon into 2013 I will be well and then I'll come and visit you without sputtering germs all over your home.

Now, there's something to look forward to.

Sigh.

Happy New Year! (cough, sniffle, sputter)

 

Want to know more about the Hygiene Council? Visit their web site here.

***

Disclosure: I am part of the Lysol® Healthy Families Ambassador Program by Mom Central. I received compensation as part of my affiliation with this group.  The opinions on this blog are my own. And so is my cold.

As long as we don't go extinct...

Our family name is also my husband's license plate.

I was looking for a gift for him a few years ago and when I found that our surname was available as a personalized plate I bought it for him.

For the sake of this story let's say our last name is uh, Happyfield.

Last week we were attending our youngest daughter's Christmas concert and, since parking was at a premium, my husband let me out at the front of the theatre.

I was climbing out of his jeep when I overheard a tiny young voice ask their mother what a Happyfield is.

The mother of this child happens to be a friend of mine and she glanced up to see why her daughter had asked, noted the license plate, then looked up at me and smiled as she pointed in my direction and said,

'That's a Happyfield'.

And that my friends, is how my I went from being part of a family to becoming part of a species. 

And you know what? 

I think I'm okay with that.

It's beginning to look a lot like...

I put up one of our Christmas trees today.

Yes, I have a nice artificial tree that I put up in my living room every year and I decorate it in silver, white and blue. 

And then, closer to Christmas, we will put up a real tree in the family room and the kids, the husband and I will throw every ornament, light, garland and tinsel that has ever caught our fancy on it.

I love both these trees for different reasons. 

You see, the lovely and the crazy are both welcome in my house, my heart and um, my family.

And, that's a good thing, don’t ya think?

What's in a word...

"Omnishambles" has been named the word of the year by the Oxford English Dictionary.

The word describes a situation, which is shambolic from every possible angle and was coined in 2009 by the writers of a BBC political satire.

After hearing this information on the radio, I took to my computer and double-checked the meaning of the word, shambolic.

Shambolic means chaotic, disorganized, or mismanaged.

And that my friends, that kinda describes most aspects of my life right now so I'm gonna use it.

Omnishambles Mama - it has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

How to Really Annoy a Customer

Dear Local Dealership Service Centre,

Yes, I realize I have a broken tail light.

You see, it was dark, I was tired and I stupidly backed into the corner of a large metal dumpster.

IT WAS MY FAULT. I know this, and even if I didn’t know it, the constant snickering about it from my son and husband would have clued me in by now.

But, for the love of all things good in life, I have been to your shop now THREE times in the past six days. You have kept my van all THREE times for over FOUR hours and my tail light still hasn't been fixed.

It's a bulb and a small red lens, people. That's it.

I also now have over a thousand dollars on my Visa for OTHER repairs that you suggested I get done while I was at your shop but I STILL DON’T HAVE A WORKING tail light.

And yes, we are in the market to buy a new car. And yes, I did test drive one at your dealership last week.

But honestly, after this week of non-service, my next new car will be bought ANYWHERE but from you.

No-Love,
Tired (No, make that, really, really, REALLY Tired) Mama

Just pass the cookies...

I don't like coffee.

Nope.

Don't like it, don't drink it, never have and probably never will.

Now, don't get me wrong, I understand how people need it to get their morning started. My husband isn't his usual jovial self until he's made his run to Tim Hortons, but me?

I get my morning kick by eating an Oreo (okay, maybe two) every morning with a glass of milk.

And I'm pretty sure Oreos are not good for you, but that's okay because I offset that with milk, which IS good for me.

And yes, I did hide in the closet when my kids were young so they wouldn't know I was eating cookies for breakfast while I forced them to eat fruit.

And, now that my kids are older, I still eat my Oreos every morning except now I don’t hide.

And my kids, just eat their fruit and shake their heads.

Merry Way-Too-Early.

I’ve been reading a lot of complaints lately on-line about how early Christmas stuff is coming out.

I get that, I didn't like hearing Christmas music at my local mall on November 1st either and, when I heard it, I complained to my shopping companion about it too.

But, as I was packing away all the Halloween and fall trash decorations that were littering my house last weekend, I started thinking about Christmas.

And then, I started worrying about how everything was going to get done, which lead me to conclude that I should probably get started on uh, Christmas.

Because I DO want the house to look nice for the holidays and I DO want it to be enjoyable for ME as well as my family and guests. 

Which means, I can't really leave everything until December 1st or I'll just drive myself, and everyone around me crazy, as I try to get it all done.

Because, let’s face it, no matter how much I try and simplify it, Christmas is a ton of work.

So, I'm going to start thinking and planning for Christmas this weekend.

Which means I'm going to join those people I was just scorning last week at the mall who were humming Christmas carols.

Yes, I’ve gone over to the Christmas dark side.

Sorry.

Sigh.

Is anyone even listening?

Sign-talk.

You've seen it, it's when someone writes what they are thinking on a card and holds it up to the camera.

So, instead of the viewer hearing the presenter’s voice they can read what the presenter is thinking on a card.

Like Amanda Todd did.

It's like Twitter because the messages are short.

It's like YouTube because it's well, a YouTube video, just quieter than most.

It's hiding behind words, and it's often a silent scream for attention. 

It's a new form of communication.

Another.

Tweeting, texting, messaging, Facebooking, blogging, Skyping, on-line news flashes, video conferencing, cell phones meaning people can ALWAYS reach me and now sign-talk.

All new ways for people to contact me. You. Us.

None of these ways to reach my ears was around when I was a teen.

Which leaves me wondering if any of them are really effective?

I'm hazarding to guess that many of us are now tuning most of these communication methods out, unconsciously covering our ears so we can block out all the noise and give ourselves a minute to hear our own thoughts.

To give ourselves a minute to process it all and THINK.

Because honestly, most days all this communication?

It’s just giving me a headache.

How to have great skin

I was away at a conference last weekend and I had the pleasure of listening to Kate White speak.

If you don't know Ms. White, she has been the editor in chief of five magazines, including Cosmopolitan and now is a bestselling author.

She is also an articulate and entertaining speaker.

At this particular conference, she was speaking about her writing and her new career book titled, ‘I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This (Success Secrets Every Gutsy Girl Should Know).’

There were several hundred women and three men listening to her speak and when she was done her prepared speech she had time for a few questions.

The first few questions she fielded were career advice oriented or were about her writing.

Then, one woman stood up, politely thanked Ms. White for speaking and then proceeded to ask her how she kept her skin looking so great.

I couldn't decide if I was shocked, amused or disgusted.

I mean, here we were at a business conference and this woman was asking for personal beauty tips?

Argh.

You can bet no man would have thought to ask this question and, I’m also willing to bet, this type of question wouldn’t have been asked at any conference predominantly populated by men either.

But, Kate White does have beautiful skin, was a feature writer and columnist for Glamour magazine and perhaps even more importantly, in her early sixties looks fabulous.

So yes, although the question was possibly inappropriate for the venue, I, like all the other women there, leaned forward slightly to make sure I heard her answer clearly. 

And, I'm not sure if this makes me unprofessional, pathetic or just um, normal.

Sigh.

So, what about you? Do you want to know how she answered? Comment below and I'll send you an e-mail and tell you what she said. 

 

My Little Pony

I upgraded my phone last night. One of the reasons I wanted a new phone was so that I would have a camera with me all the time.

My old phone had a camera but it took lousy pictures.

So, I now have this fancy new phone and it seems to take decent pictures.

And, do you know how I know that it takes decent pictures? 

Well, not because I took a picture of my kids.

And, not because I took a picture of my pets.

And, not because I took a picture of the parking lot sign where I left my van today. (I do that a lot because I can NEVER remember where I park in big underground multi-level parking lots.)

I know it takes good pictures because, with my new phone, I took a picture of this:

I mean it's not every day you see a humongous My Little Pony.

Right?

And, she even POSED for me.

So, this? This was worth a picture. 

And I might even have taken two.

Or seven.

Yes, I do have expensive tastes.

I was driving my son home from school today when I spotted a lovely little blue car stopped at a stop sign as we drove by.

'That's a nice car,' I remarked to my boy.

I've been trying to really look at cars lately because I need to replace my van. My teen son knows more about cars than I do so, when I see one I like, he tells me what it is so I can consider it as a possible replacement vehicle.

This time he looked at me as if I was an idiot. (Yeah, he does that all the time sometimes.)

'Mom, that's a Maserati,' he said, his tone implying that I should know this.

'Oh,' I replied. 'Those are expensive, right?'

'About 150 grand,' he replied.

Right.

When I got home, I looked it up. My boy was right; the local dealership has a 2011 Maserati for sale for $140,000 CDN.

Okay, then.

Let's just say we're probably not going to be buying one of these, especially not as an even trade-in for my six year old mini-van, any time soon. 

But, it's still a nice car. 

There should be a law...

I think we need to put a private member's bill before parliament.

I would like to propose that we put through a law that states that Halloween candy cannot be sold until noon on October 30th and must be either consumed or disposed of by November 2nd.

Will you support me?

My hips and waist will thank you.

Sigh.

PS. I've been nominated as one of the top 25 Canadian Mom blogs in the Circle of Moms contest. If you get a minute, please click on the badge below and vote for me. You can vote once every twenty-four hours. Thank-you!

When I last checked I was #42!  Thank you, everyone!

 

She's ready to change things...

The good thing about a 12-year-old girl returning home from four days at a well-run inspirational leadership camp is that she comes home fired up, ready to change the world and full of great ideas of all the things she can do to help make the world a better place.

The bad thing about a 12-year-old girl returning home from four days at a well-run inspirational leadership camp is that she comes home fired up, ready to change the world and full of great ideas...

You get my point.

And, if my daughter does even half of what she wants to do, she is going to be a very busy girl, and me?

I'm going to be very tired.

Sigh.

Yes, I do miss you. Honest.

My husband has gone away with his brother for the weekend. They are enjoying some guy time and I'm hoping that they are having a great weekend.

And, while I love my husband and I miss him, I'd be lying if I didn't also tell you that I LOVE sleeping like a starfish in the middle of our bed when he's not here.

All that room, no snoring and two pillows all to myself.

Honey? Have fun and hurry home.

But, if you wanted to stay away a few extra days?

That would be okay too.

I could use the sleep. :)

She's my girl..

I was Skype-talking with my eldest yesterday and it was so nice (big/huge/massive understatement here) to hear her voice from 6,432 miles away. 

She was telling me many interesting things and after a while, I asked her about her schoolwork.

She told me that everything is going well, her grades are good, she is busy, and slightly stressed, but managing. She also mentioned that she really liked her Chemistry class.

I smiled when she told me that and I made a mental note to tell her Dad, who has a chemical engineering degree, that some of his DNA was obviously making its presence known in our oldest child.

I then asked her if she missed anything.

Her reply was instantaneous. And, you know what it was that she said she missed the most? 

Dairy Queen.

Yup, DQ.

And that, my friends?

That is MY DNA making its presence known.

PS. I've been nominated as one of the top 25 Canadian Mom blogs in the Circle of Moms contest. If you get a minute, please click on the badge below and vote for me. I don't care if I win but finishing dead last would be kinda sad. Or pathetic. Probably both. Thank-you!

When I last checked I was #42 Sigh. Now #35!  Thank you, everyone!

Please, leave my stuff alone. Please.

Remember these? You used to see them all the time at banks.

Since I now do all of my banking either through machines or on-line, I'm not even sure they still exist.

Just in case some of you don't recognize them, this thing is called a security pen. The idea behind it is that you bolt it to a counter and then customers can't accidently walk away with the pen.

All of the banks used to have them.

I want one.

And, when I get it, I'm going to attach one end to my bathroom counter, remove the pen, and attach the other end to my hairbrush.

Yes, my hairbrush.

And yes, I do have a tween daughter, how did you guess?

Sigh.

Take me home...

Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head?

This is my problem this morning and honestly, it's annoying the heck out of me.

And, to make it even worse, the song is, Country Roads by John Denver.

I must have been in an elevator yesterday, or maybe it was playing at the grocery store, I don't know, either way I can't stop singing and humming it today.

And, can you think of a more ANNOYING song to have stuck in your head?

Okay, maybe the Barney or Dora Explorer theme songs, but that's not the point.

I NEED to get this stupid song out of my brain.

According to a friend, (What, Google’s not your BFF too?) the best way to get a song out of one’s head, is to belt it out really loud while you’re in the shower. Supposedly, it washes the song right out of your head somehow.

Yeah.

I'm not sure which is worse, my family trying to have me locked up for walking around singing John Denver all day or having them commit me for yelling the words to Country Roads out in the shower.

Decisions, decisions... 

How about you? Have you ever had a song stuck in your head? What was it?

Dreaming

Tonight, I'm hiding in my office, dreaming of being single and living somewhere exotic.

I'm dreaming of sandy beaches, floaty soft dresses, fruit drinks, warm weather and a life of financial freedom.

In reality, I am listening to my two younger children bicker in the family room. 

I'm trying to let them work it out.

Yeah.

Very soon, I will need to break up the fighting and get in my van to head over to the grocery store for some bread and milk for tomorrow’s breakfast.

I also need to throw in a load of laundry so the kids have clean uniforms for school and, after that, I'm going to head over to my son's school for their back to school evening. 

It's just started to rain.

Glamorous, right? 

Sigh.

I don't think I'll be getting on an airplane to that tropical fantasy island any time soon.

But, I still think I'm going to sit here for a few more minutes and dream about it...

Tiny Stalker

Just over a year ago, we got a dog.

Just in case you missed all the hoopla at the time, this is Sadie.

Sadie is a good dog too - she's well behaved, loving, sweet, happy and cute as can be.

Sadie is really my youngest daughter's buddy. This is all fine and dandy, the only problem is, Sadie WILL NOT leave ME alone.

She loves me, I know that, but she ALWAYS seems to be under my feet.

Actually, if I sit still long enough she'll sit ON my feet.

And, if I get up, for even just a minute to get something from the other room, she'll follow me. 

I've tried telling Sadie to stay, I've tried explaining to her that I'm coming right back but she trots under my feet anyway and watches me do whatever it is I'm doing.

Honestly? It's a little creepy at times. 

She's an 8 lb. stalker.

A cute little stalker, but still, a stalker.  

Sorry, Sadie. I love you but can you maybe, just occasionally, take a page from the cat's book, and leave me alone for a few minutes?

Yeah, pretend to be that grey fluff ball that we only see at meal times who lives with us.

Not all the time, just maybe for a few hours a day.

I need a break.

Thanks.

How to Remove Melted Wax from Candle Holders

Did you know that if you put candle holders in the freezer, the melted wax will pop right out?

I didn't and the friends I had over this weekend didn't either. So, I'm sharing this tip with all of you too.

You're welcome.

Seriously, here's a picture of my candle holder all icky and full of melted wax.

 

I threw it in the freezer and then, viola!

The frozen wax pops out cleanly and the holder is ready to be washed up and used again. 

For years, I used to try to melt the wax out of these holders by soaking them in hot water and usually my sink, the holder and my hands just got all yucky. I've even tried chiseling the wax out. I've killed a few butter knives this way.

Now, I just throw my glass holders in the freezer.

No muss and no fuss cleaning. 

Who knew?

Good Morning to you too...

If you're a regular here you'll know that my oldest daughter has moved overseas.

This, of course, has changed our family dynamics a bit. We're adjusting, but every day I seem to be finding another hole in our daily family routine that she’s left.

There's less laundry, shoes in the hallway and jackets flung in the mudroom since she's been gone. 

And, I've discovered, my daughters room? It has a FLOOR. Shocking what you find under mounds of clothes and art supplies.

My other children have picked up the slack and are setting the dinner table and emptying the dishwasher more frequently in her absence.

But, the one thing I didn't realize my daughter was doing every morning was turning on her bathroom sink tap to a trickle so our beloved silver tabby cat could get a morning drink of fresh water straight from the source.

Yowl.

That's what I'm waking up to now.

Yowl, yowl. YOOOOOOOWL.

Now, that my daughter's away, the cat is insisting that someone else take over the chore.

Loudly. 

So, guess who now has a new chore to do every morning, sleep in day or not?

Yep. Me.

It wouldn’t be so bad but I keep forgetting to go back in and turn the darn tap off again.

Dumb cat.

Moms can't use the F word

I have nothing to write about today.

Now, when you have nothing to write about or at least nothing NICE to write about, the best thing to do is to probably not write.

I've actually started a few posts today but they are all bitchy and snarky so I've deleted them.

Yep, I did.

So.

My oldest daughter is talking about starting her own blog, have I shared that yet?

The only thing, my daughter tells me, that is stopping her is that she would probably only blog about things that annoy her and so every post that she wrote would probably end with the F word.

Interesting.

'Just like I write the word, Sigh at the end of most my posts?' I asked.

'Right,' she said, 'like that.'

Just. Like. That.

I wonder what she thinks I'm really thinking when I sigh?

Sigh.