At the moment my entire house smells like vomit and I haven't a clue how to successfully remedy the situation. I am domestic goddess fail. This is something that bothers me at times. Sometimes I marvel in my ability to rebel against basic principles of hygiene instead. When I wish to engage in much internal dialogue about how shit I am, all my faults come in handy though. Including this one. Yet, I wonder why it has to be so fucking hard. There is mess. One cleans mess. Simple. So why do II feel the urgency to draw politics into these basic boring facts of life? Why can't I just clean shit up, rather than wasting time speculating how much my biological possession of a vagina is leading me to get jiggy with the whole cleaning up caper. I am boring even myself.
Get better little spewy boy. I have enjoyed couch-ridden cuddles, even if they have more to do with illness rather than maternal affection.
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