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My little baby niece Maia has a little baby boyfriend named Mel! Here's an illustrated account of their date together, as my sister narrates:
"Maia had nothing to wear for her big date. So she asked her mama to pick out something nice. Mama thought a checkered blouse and khaki shorts would be fine--the bare arms say "I'm adventurous," but the khakis say, "I'm also sensible."
Mel came over around 1:30. He was very sweet despite his eczema and digestive issues. Most men would be emotionally unavailable, but Mel was frank (well, Mel was Mel, Frank isn't in this story). He was vulnerable, he told her. He'd been hurt before.
Maia honked his nose to reassure him that this was a safe and happy place where he could scratch his head and let go of anything he was holding onto. And he did--he had been holding onto some pureed squash for quite some time. He felt so much better once it was gone.
"I told you so," Maia said, and gave him her Mama's sunglasses, which she knew she would cheer him up.
No sooner had she handed them to him when she abruptly took them back and said, "These are my mama's; you cannot have them."
Mel was stunned, not by indignance, but by pure rapture. She didn't just take away the shades; she also took away his breath."
My sister is getting married in August. It's going to be the first time in about 6 or 7 years that she, my mother, father, and I will be together as a family, the last time being her first marriage or some time thereafter. Weird. Some strange stuff. I'm past feeling awkward about it, and I'm past being jaded about it. It's an off feeling, yes, but I think I'm mature enough to deal with it however I'll deal with it. Decency is really all I'm concerned with. You have to be decent about these things, or else you're a nuisance.
Before I go there, I'm going to Lollapalooza with Mr. J.N. Psillas at the hospitality of Ms. G.X. Bailey, at which there will be more than enough double penetration.
August will be a 8th most monthinest months of the year.
"Maia had nothing to wear for her big date. So she asked her mama to pick out something nice. Mama thought a checkered blouse and khaki shorts would be fine--the bare arms say "I'm adventurous," but the khakis say, "I'm also sensible."
Mel came over around 1:30. He was very sweet despite his eczema and digestive issues. Most men would be emotionally unavailable, but Mel was frank (well, Mel was Mel, Frank isn't in this story). He was vulnerable, he told her. He'd been hurt before.
Maia honked his nose to reassure him that this was a safe and happy place where he could scratch his head and let go of anything he was holding onto. And he did--he had been holding onto some pureed squash for quite some time. He felt so much better once it was gone.
"I told you so," Maia said, and gave him her Mama's sunglasses, which she knew she would cheer him up.
No sooner had she handed them to him when she abruptly took them back and said, "These are my mama's; you cannot have them."
Mel was stunned, not by indignance, but by pure rapture. She didn't just take away the shades; she also took away his breath."
My sister is getting married in August. It's going to be the first time in about 6 or 7 years that she, my mother, father, and I will be together as a family, the last time being her first marriage or some time thereafter. Weird. Some strange stuff. I'm past feeling awkward about it, and I'm past being jaded about it. It's an off feeling, yes, but I think I'm mature enough to deal with it however I'll deal with it. Decency is really all I'm concerned with. You have to be decent about these things, or else you're a nuisance.
Before I go there, I'm going to Lollapalooza with Mr. J.N. Psillas at the hospitality of Ms. G.X. Bailey, at which there will be more than enough double penetration.
August will be a 8th most monthinest months of the year.
