a poll

neesh should quit her job.

well, one of us has to. otherwise we'll never see--or talk to--each other again. and seeing as her better half is gainfully and securely employed, i think it should be her.

all in favor? say 'aye.'

all the single ladies?

take notes.

miss lorin's fabulous fours class, also known as favlious fours to some members of our family, has a class of mostly boys (poor woman), yet, 1 somehow, still surrounds himself with the ladies, albeit a minority in his class. i've heard much about one little lady in particular. grace. grace, the apple of 1's eye with whom he plays the affectionately titled game of 'babies' as well as others of the same home-economic nature at school: grace this. grace that. grace has beautiful* hair, mom. grace is so funny. grace and me don't use potty-talk like carter.

*i've seen the hair. it's regular, it's four year-old.

i thought it was his mad skillz--including, but not limited too, thinking all women, even in the wee hours of the morning with funky hair and the breath to match, are princesses and tells them so--that gave the aforementioned result.

we-he-hell...

i was going through stuff, decluttering the kitchen--namely, the never ending pile of to-do's and papers that i keep "neatly" stacked in the corner--i came across 1's valentines from his class mates. it was the usual stuff, you know, princesses and hello kitties from the girls, super heroes and lightning mcqueen from the boys. i chucked each one after i detached it's goody, some of which i consumed, and seeing who it was from. i paused when i came to grace's. wait for it...


a superman card, with matching superman tatoo.

it's not the hair, or his skillz, but hers.