It Happens Every Spring
I honestly don't know what brings it on. The weather doesn't even have to be particularly spring-like, which at cloudy and 40 degrees, it certainly isn't.
It's like a sickness. Certainly that's how The Spouse would describe it. Worst of all, it looks like I've passed it on to The Child.
It comes from a place so deep in my bones that it's like I was born with it. It's like my blue eyes or my great gams (that's for you, JP). To change it would take radical steps to change it. Like surgery.
Maybe it's genetic, maybe it is something spiritual. Maybe it comes from some very ancient place so far back in the mists of time that it can't even be named.
All I know is, the gland is secreting and I'm going to move stuff around.
I'm sorry, honey.
It's like a sickness. Certainly that's how The Spouse would describe it. Worst of all, it looks like I've passed it on to The Child.
It comes from a place so deep in my bones that it's like I was born with it. It's like my blue eyes or my great gams (that's for you, JP). To change it would take radical steps to change it. Like surgery.
Maybe it's genetic, maybe it is something spiritual. Maybe it comes from some very ancient place so far back in the mists of time that it can't even be named.
All I know is, the gland is secreting and I'm going to move stuff around.
I'm sorry, honey.
Labels: great gams, the gland is secreting
cobbled together by Moi at 10:34 AM
13 Comments:
OK - now I know where that great pep talk you gave me on Sunday came from. Your gland will have plenty to secrete over at my house in the next few weeks. So don't overdo it at yours -
xo nayb
Looks like barked shins for me
Ah, that special almost pleasurable disease...I have it periodically as well...but not when I look at windows.
I knew you were going to say that, Nayb!
Don't worry, honey. The living room isn't part of the plan. Yet.
Rosemary, it's good to know I'm not alone. And yeah, the windows never inspire it in me, either.
And an equally interesting question, why is it that Husbands, French and American alike apparently, dread the sound us moving stuff around more than anything?
Normally this is where I'd move stuff too, but in the current living environment there's no place to move it.
Great gams, btw.
I'm not sure, Nicole. I think it's to do with their fear that if we can change the sofa on a whim we might just as easily replace them.
JP, What about moving everything bang up against Fran's wall?
Lol The Wife has that gene as well, I can leave stuff sit for years in the same place..
Gams. I love that word. I haven't heard that word in years.
This one's easy..Let us harken back to a time,millenia ago,when the first australopithecine hominid male brought the first "rock-tied-to-a-string" into the dark recesses of the familial cavern,and his mate said,"I don't think so!"...
Grish, so can The Spouse. Which would be fine except for the whole "where is that x, I know I put it in y, tearing the house apart looking for it when it's sitting in the same bloody pile he'd put it in" thing.
Jon: Gams, gams, gams. Sacbut.
Sling: that is so close to the image I had earlier today...only my australopithecine hominid female was rearranging the rocks in the cave. Lol!
God, Lorraine, you crack me UP!
That's what I'm here for, sugar.
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