I am so sorry, if there in anyone left who bothers to visit me lately. I just have no drive to write, although I have some time. I mean, I am busy like the rest of us, but I just have nothing to say right now. I have plenty going on, but nothing to say, really.
Dear Sir got me eight books for Christmas and I am only 1/3 of a way through the first book. I mean, the book he got me for my birthday. I got books for my birthday too.
The neighbors who destroyed our mailbox invited us over to their house on Christmas day because they said they are "terrible" neighbors. I was sick, the Girl was sick, it was sort of strange, but we went. We stayed a little over an hour and left a bit disturbed. I mean, they are nice people, but it was quite strange and awkward. Their little three year old boy took my hand immediately as I walked in the door and said, "YOU will play with me!" and led me downstairs to his lair of Toys R Us. It was pretty much chaos because the kid talked incessantly, the couple talked over each other, and then she had family who were quiet, but kept interrupting too. Dear Sir and I just smiled pleasantly and let it all trickle down. Our kids were complete quiet angels. Their house was sort of dark and dank; well taken over by the ruler-child. The carpet was a nightmare, the house cluttered so badly that walking around was laughable. If I spilled my red wine it would not have made a difference. Sudafed kept me calm enough to maintain balance while descending the steps as the child clasped my hand and led me to a matchbox race track. Heaven forbid I put my car in his slot. He would scream and attack my hand. I knew my place quickly; I was to be the Venom car, he was to be Spiderman. Heaven help you if you mix it up.
I imagine they must think Dear Sir and I are a fascinating couple. We never argue (at least in public like they do), we homeschool, we look sort of different, and our kids are well-behaved. I must admit, Dear Sir and I are pretty happy. Very happy. They are not. They look and sound miserable. This is what was the most disturbing. I feel very bad for them.
We had many homeschooling questions. They asked about competence but stated that I looked absolutely competent, so they weren't questioning my abilities, but questioning others. Huh.
I am glad I look competent. That sort of made me laugh---and wonder. When visiting a church recently someone asked me (and this is the second time this has happened) if I was Dear Sir's daughter or wife, they could not tell. They were totally not trying to flatter me, they were embarrassed to ask the question and were embarrassed to get the answer. I just looked at Dear Sir and thought, "well, gee, he doesn't look that old!" Then the man, for unknown reasons, goes and shaves his beard. Took care of that. Now he looks like a baby.
I must depart. The Oldest is begging me for coffee and the treadmill is calling me to it, pleading with me to finish what I have started.
I am now thirty and the grave has engulfed me, for now I only speak from the lips of a corpse. But I look competent. This is a relief.