More Parallel Universe

Do you ever want to blog and you can't because your daughter is walking around 9 months pregnant and she hit you accidentally with her babytummy twice today and you find yourself just lying on your bed because you want the baby to come out but he won't so you just lie there on the mattress thinking about your daughter birthing and you can't stop trying to imagine it so you just keep thinking and laying there when you could be blogging but instead of the blogging you roll over and grab a handful of cashews because soon the baby will be here and you know that then there will be no lying around and cashew grabbing or reading of "Wuthering Heights" (lots of big words in that one I'll tell you) and when the birthing finally does happen all there will be is you, just you you you and you being all supportive and helpful and not judgemental about ANYTHING; and you know that in a matter of days that that's all there will be in the entire whole wide world and universe, all there will be is just you, being the perfect earth mother-of-the-mother, the perfect earth mother who keeps smiling all the time no matter what and is never in a bad mood and does cooking and is supportive and keeps her mouth shut and doesn't say anything like: "Binkies cause nipple confusion?" or "Huh?"and the Perfect Earth Mother would never ever ever say: "You can't put this snugly yet lovingly made (by a very attractive grandma) quilt in his bed with him?" or the P.E.M. absolutely would not say: "I put all my babies on their tummies backs and sides and nothing ever happened to them." so you as a Perfect Earth Mother don't say any of that archaic Grannie sounding kind of stuff because in actuality you're young and hip and now and happnin' (although saying happnin' might make you not so happnin'), and since you realize that by not saying those things it will keep life upbeat and happy and supportive, so you very strongly plan on not saying stupid things and keeping that smile pasted on, but you don't trust yourself to do it, so you run to your bedroom and fling yourself on the bed and grab around wildly for the nuts? Grab for nuts wildly like a blind man that has no elbows in his arms?

Does that ever happen to you?

It Does?

Well then, how about this one: When you explain it to everyone, do you have to explain the whole thing in one big ginormous expansivly ridunkulous sentence?

You Do?

Just so you know...

You and I?

We're Simpatico.

Which, by the way, is something that should cause you to fear and tremble.