There’s a whole lot of wtf-ery going on ’round these parts lately. Let’s capture them:
1. To those with opinions on how I raise my child:
No, seriously, that is how much I value your opinion. I do not care if you don’t like how I feed my child, clothe my child, teach my child, put my child to sleep: hush.
2. On that note, what is with people who have no qualms about letting you know every single opinion that they have? Not just with child-rearing, but with all aspects of life? Let’s make a deal: I will make my decisions, and you make yours.
3. I’m sorry, but chambray, madras, seersuckers…Who names these fabrics? It’s ridiculous. It makes me want to not wear them. And then I see pictures of what the clothing style/fabric actually is, and I want to burn them all.
4. My sister (13) is new to the idea of reading for joy. Because of Twilight. That’s right, she read the 4 Twilight books and cried when she finished. Not out of horror of the juvenile and altogether nauseating writing, but because she was sad they were finished. And then I gave her The Hunger Games, and she loves it; after this series, I’d like to start her on Harry Potter. There is such fun to be had with introducing her to wonderful literature and authors; I’m hoping she’s receptive. I know she’s 13 and not ready for Plath, but at this point, anything is better than Twilight.
5. I’m almost out of my bottles of J from my birthday. This is causing me great grief. I have 1/4 bottle of white left, and 2 bottles of bubbly. I have no idea when my next shipment comes (#mylifeishard) and I don’t want to run through the sparkling wine too quickly. Fail. Lack of wine means lack of patience.
Tomorrow is my father’s birthday. Not enough alcohol in the world to get through that one. No, literally, because he’s a raging alcoholic.