Agatha’s got her dad’s eyes, hair, nose and eyebrows -she’s gonna be really mad him at some point of her life for those, I’m sure – but it turns out she has my personality. Meaning: She can be really weird sometimes. Specially when she’s sleeping.
No, I won’t. English is not my mother tongue and I’d be rather difficult for me to explain this:
See that? You don’t? Look closer!
She HAS TO sleep over my feet. That’s serious “WTF” behavior! Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, she’s at the wrong side of the bed, sleeping over my feet.
Is there a child therapist in the audience anywhere who could explain me this?
Thank you very much.
In todays news:
I shouldn’t have had all that chocolate milk. Isn’t terrible to have no control over what you eat? Sometimes I actually think about it like this: How is it possible that I hate how I feel for eating so much and yet I still do? I am doing it! I’m the master of my body. Aren’t I? Aren’t I supposed to be, anyway?
My baby is weird, I’m weird. We’re all weird. Except, I’m weird and fat. My babies are weird and cute.
This post doesn’t make much sense, but if you read it when you’re half asleep, like I am right now, you just might find there’s a deep meaningful message hidden in here somewhere!
Take care, weird people of the world!