Kid Buries Daddy in Pillows
Because he is annoying
Laurea told me the other day that I “like to be annoying”, which, on reflection, I think she might have right. Kina certainly agrees, and after tolerating a long stretch of me repeating everything she said this morning, she pushed me down on the bed and started piling pillows on me, running to every room in our apartment to gather throw pillows, body pillows, baby pillows—anything that would muffle my voice. It was funny until it got hard to breathe; Laurea would tell me that I should have thought of that before I pissed Kina off. I should probably strive to be less annoying, but it’s such a pure thrill to needle the ones you love until they bury you alive in bedding.
Specific Balloon Grows Tiresome
I know you’re all dying to know the latest balloon goss—to hear that Kina’s balloons are arrayed throughout the apartment in cups like rotund sentinels, a latex menagerie. Well, friends, the news is not great. Sometime in the last two days, it seems all the water balloons met their demise. I had to ask Laurea about this just now, because I realized I hadn’t seen a balloon in a cup all day, and she informed me briskly that they were no more. (I don’t want to read more into it than that.) They are missed. The water balloons were survived, at the moment of their passing, by four balloons filled with air, two of which are now a few weeks old and slightly wrinkly. It is one of these two balloons for which Kina requested a replacement, preferably filled with water. Reader, there are now five balloons filled with air.
My proudest moment in this edition is the little butt dance. It’s tough to get the little shaky-shaky lines right.