I woke this morning, day two of my own rehabilitation – as a friend recently said when I was describing the work on the bridges, I wish someone was spending $1 million to rehabilitate me. Ha! I’m on the wagon, on the horse, and trying to eat veges and not have a glass of wine and just generally be good. That must be why I feel so sluggish, right?
This afternoon Tin turned into a warrior toddler again – he had been having a groovy time with his nanny who made him an elephant mask and they marched around like a band – but when she left, it was time for his nap and so his response to my loving arms was to slap me directly in the face, repeatedly. And let me tell you – that sucks!
A mother at a birthday party was showing me her bite marks from her two year old. What goes on, people?
At some point, I felt like taking off my clothes and running naked through the bayou hooting and hollering and then coming home and inflating the kiddie pool and going out there with a drink with one of those Caribbean blue umbrellas in it and calling it a day. Rehabilitation indeed.