My grandfather, Luke's great-grandfather, thinks he feels well enough to come over to my mother's house for a pre-4th-of-july celebration before Luke and I go back home. It's amazing and exciting because both my mother and grandmother just two weeks ago were telling me I couldn't get here soon enough, that things were really bad. And they were when we got here, no doubt about it. Seems the best medicine is a dose of his grand-daughter and great-grandson. Good Stuff.
How much sugar and soda my kid has had these two weeks. Every time I turn around someone is offering something that wires him up and makes him act all crazy and wild. Then I think they can't wait till we leave. Yikes. I am so sick of telling him to 'knock it off', and 'don't make me tell you again', and "no, I said no, and I'm not saying it again. No!" Bad, very bad stuff.
I've lost my R's. I sound like I've lived here in New Hampsha all my life or something. Every time a word comes out of my mouth that should have an R in it, but doesn't, I cringe and stumble over the next word. It's not pretty at all. I wonder how long it will take to get them back. Even Luke is doing it, but I think he's just copying me - he gets a kick out of leaving the r's off and repeats after me. Sista, wata, ca, weatha, thunda showa. Ugly, so very, very ugly.