There are few happier places than Jamaica anyway, but it's an extra happy place when you are floating down one of its rivers with a hibiscus in your hair in the rain forest with your cousins without a care in the world. Halfway through the trip, they gave us a Red Stripe, and at the end there was jerk chicken in a shack. I swear I'd live in that shack if I knew I'd be that relaxed all the time. I've been having to go to my happy places a lot lately. Not because I'm sad, but because I'm tense. There is very little relaxing around my house these days, and I've noticed I'm starting to clench my teeth in my sleep. This is not good. Today, I am going to try to combat stress by taking the Peanut for a leisurely stroll through the Arboretum. I fear that this may backfire. Daphne isn't a very leisurely kid on field trips. She always wants to "git DOON" and "walka walka walka." By the way, I can't figure out where she's getting this accent. I think she thinks she's Scottish. Maybe I watched So I Married and Axe Murderer a few too many times. Heed! Pants! Now!
1 comment:
1. It's not nice to call chicken names.
2. Maybe Daphne thinks she is Fozzie Bear - "Walka Walka Walka".
3. In a world of great tragedy, nobody with hibiscus in her hair should complain about needing to go to her "happy places". Don't know why, but that kind of talk makes me want to punch myself right in the face.
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