So yeah, I "ran" 8 miles this morning. And I say "ran" because when I am unable to breath or my iPod goes apeshit and throws the $%#*&@#$*!!!!!! Annie soundtrack into the mix I have to grab the handrails and throw my legs to the side and get to pressing buttons and try to retrieve that Ke$ha song. (Sister of mercy, I can't run to soundtracks.) I call it the run/walk/stand approach and I'm going to patent that. So don't steal it. Then I see Erik four treadmills over running, waving his arms and mouthing the words "What. Are. You. Doing? Run!!"
Okay, so in California you're not allowed to text and drive. So I've taught my kids to text. Tell your dad we're on our way home. I say, as I toss the phone to the backseat. Tell your dad we need milk and eggs. Tell your dad - you get the idea.
And they know (because they have eyes) how to use abbreviations for words. At school this week, they were going over the calendar in Lula's class. One day was marked with the letters:
"Milking day?! What's milking day?" my seven year old asked.
Don't get all judgmental. I'm willing to admit that my kid is in a much more diverse class than yours. Seriously the days of the blond-off are long gone. It's just that the way it was written on the calendar, it looked more like a grocery list than a national holiday. And her teacher agreed, because she took out the dry-erase marker and added the proper punctuation:
M. L. King Day