Olivia cried early this morning, “The Tooth Fairy didn’t come!!!”
That darned tooth had been hanging for weeks. The Tooth Fairy SHOULD NOT have missed her delivery. Plus, Olivia just broke her wrist - the Tooth Fairy should never miss visiting the 6-year-old-girl with lopsided ponytails and a broken wrist.
Joel added from across the hall, “Yeah! Hey MOM! Remember the time the Tooth Fairy forgot to come for FOUR NIGHTS?!!!”
Yeah. She remembers. Maybe the Tooth Fairy should start depositing the cash straight into the kids’ therapy fund.
So, I have been posting a buncha garbage about this thing I call “training”. I have a half-marathon I intend to complete in a few weeks and I do not want to be unprepared - so I “train”.
But I’ve been thinking lately. I am keeping track of my “physical” preparations, but not my “ingestive” preparations. Basically: if I really look at what I have been eating the last number of weeks, one might think I am actually training for a hot dog eating contest.
Not kidding.
Or a latte’ drinking contest.
Or a sugar-rush contest.
A cookie eating contest?
But not a half-marathon.
Oh well. At least I’m honest.
Recent Comments