Welcome to Crap I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You About, 14th Edition. Winter here has been unbearable. Storm after storm after storm. Snow, flooding, freezing. Halifax is encased in ice. It’s the worst kind of slip and slide. People are storm weary, and more snow is coming tomorrow. More snow is about as welcome as a skunk at a garden party. (I learned that saying from 2.0’s mummy.)
Back when the weather was warmer, a bird pooped on my head. During a Google search for advice on dealing with the situation, I learned that if you don’t dry your hair properly you can grow mold on your head. Have you guys ever had mold on your head? Do I need to start worrying about this? Never mind. I think about it all the time.
Speaking of keeping things clean, I haven’t had to buy shower gel in three years thanks to 2.0’s sister. Do you know what kind of pressure that takes off a woman? When you don’t have to decide how you’re going to smell? It is glorious.
One of my students insists on putting her hand up in the air in such a way that I always think she’s asking a question, but she really wants a high five. Nine times out of ten I walk away and leave her hangin’. Is that bullying? I’m worried I’m going to get fired.
In an effort to improve my French skills, I’ve been reading and speaking in French more. My adorable nieces, Pumpkin and Turnip, live in France after all. Have I told you that I have a nephew on the way? A Boy Beaucoup? Obviously, 2.0 and I are going to need to plan a European vacation.
2.0: Is Niles le chat noir et blanc? Or la chat noir et blanc?
movita: I dunno. Maybe il est un chat noir et blanc?
2.0: SEE? This is why we can’t ever go to Europe. We’d never be able to describe our cats to anyone.
Real life problems, people. Real life problems.