Ok, ok, I'm here! I swear! Last week was a rush of papers and visitors and planning and stressing out about a silly picture banner, and then letting everything go and having a great time. My youngest turned one and I'm happy to say I survived not only the first year, but the party, too.
It would be nice to say that I could write something during the day but the minute I leave the boys to themselves it inevitably ends in tears. Usually the elders. Because the younger decided he wanted to play with him, because he is the BestPersonNextToTheLadyWithTheMilkBOOBS. Yeah. I went there. I'm just going to have to write something now, when the boys are tucked away in their beds and sleeping. At least I can sit here on my comfy chair and think about it. Right now, I'm thinking about a poem.
My little Writer's Block book, when opened at random*, says: Tell a story that centers around a recipe.
*and by "random" I mean I kept opening the book until I got a prompt I liked. Of course.
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