Too mean to die.
I wrote this really long post yesterday, about love and identity and the meaning of life, and all that other pretentious crap that keeps my mind churning all night if I let it. I stuck it in the draft folder by accident, and I think I'll keep it there, because I don't know if I really mean any of it yet. It's a lot of lofty words, but, hey, talk is cheap.I've had a good week this week. Pretty busy on the whole. I've watched Jesse a few times this week, and I helped Jasmin out with her three year-old twin neices today. The twins were a lot of fun, but I have so much newfound respect for my mom now. She was only fifteen when her twin girls were born, and no more than eighteen when my brother Tony was born. If my sisters had half the energy the twins I babysat today have, my mom must've been going out of her head 99.999% of the time. And since Tony, even as a baby, was the anti-christ, she really MUST have had things rough.
I'm reminded of a comment my brother made once when my mom was really sick. He said: "Mom will be fine; she's too mean to die." Suddenly I see exactly how it was that she got to be so damn tough. Anyone who could survive twins AND Tony really is too mean to die.
posted by Sarie @
6:27 PM
>Comments: 0
