In my bed

My belly feels like there is a rock sitting in it. I blame the coffee. It was super strong. So naturally I drank two cups with a sugary muffin on the side. Why do I do it? In the wise words of Dr. Seuss, ” don’t ask me, go ask your mother”.

Tonight is family night. We celebrate Mondays by giving it a funny name and watching the Cosby Show. Taco Tuesday doesn’t work because we already have Partridge Family guitar Tuesdays. So instead we have Taco Tuesday Monday. It’s the same really. Only different. I can’t explain things.

I just know I want my belly ache to quit so I can eat spicy rice with a substitute of ground turkey for beef. And I want zero negative repercussions. Which have nothing whatsoever to do with percussions. It should. But it doesn’t. I can’t explain it anymore than I can explain why my heater keeps coming on when the thermostat clearly reads OFF in big offensive letters or why they keep making Land Before Time movies.

It’s not like we didn’t like the first one. It was great really. It’s just that maybe it’s time to let that one go. There are other story lines. Step to as to writing one.

My stomach is making funny gurgling noises. I think I am hungry. Don’t try to make sense of me. Just love me through it and make me a sandwich. With a banana on the side. And a bottle of water. And a Kit Kat.