I have titled my first item Revenge of the Fly's Son. So I was running this morning-- jogging along, jogging along...wishing for the angel of death to come and free me from the pain. (I left the iPod at home today because it's humongous and I'm sick of it, so instead I was forced to repeat the chorus of "Getting Jiggy Wit' It" like forty times in my head.) Between the pain of running and the torture of having Will Smith stuck in my head*, I was not in my happy place.
And that was when I heard it. This little sound next to my ear... like a tiny buzzing. It grew closer and increased in volume. "bzzzz...zzz...my name is Inigo Monflya," he buzzed angrily, "you keel my father, prepare to die." I barely had time to swat the air around me before I felt it kamikaze directly into my left eye. "Son of a--!" I screeched, batting at the air around my head like a crazy person. The Son of the Fly! In my other eye! REALLY. Why would I make this up?! Long story short, I am looking into alternate forms of exercise. Any ideas?
The next item of business I will simply call Owinge.
The following is an exerpt from a recent conversation that I had with my son:
Elise: "Hey DJ, what's your favorite color?"
Elise: "Hey DJ, what's your favorite snack?"
Elise: "Hey DJ, TURN OFF THE HOSE!"
Elise: "Hey DJ, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Elise: "Hey DJ, will you go grab a diaper for Tess?"
Elise: "Hey DJ, do you think the DOW will ever top 10,000 points again, for heaven's sake?"
*This is the Will Smith I'm talking about. The Fresh Prince version, not the Seven Pounds version. Is it even the same guy? I'm not sure.