Glory

"It smells like food in here."

Says Katy, as we sit at the dining room table while Teeth eats.

Get a grip, sweetie.

Our walls? They are gorgeous. I almost cried when I stepped back, roller in hand, paint dripping, fumes filling my brain. Katy is playing with her new laptop, trying to figure out how to get pictures from her camera to blog on it, and jealously guarding the photos. "But I want some!" I whine. I'm like that. I'm mean, and I whine. But our walls? They glow. They are un-fucking-believable.

(So, I just spellchecked, and guess which word it didn't like? I guess spellchecker doesn't appreciate profanity.)

I keep seeing this golden glow out of the corner of my eye and thinking "what's that?" and then realizing "oh, it's the wall."

Between the paint fumes and the wine, whoa. Now if I could just get a back rub...the day would be perfect. My blog, however, is not so perfect and rather incoherent. And that's just the way it's going to be. I'm lowering my standards today.