I am stupidly excited about the new look of my blog.
I think it’s everything any Queen could ask for. A little bit of dream. A little bit of green. A little bit of my house that I live in in real life…seriously. That’s my crib, baby.
Don’t be jealous.
I wish I had a real purpose in this post besides talking up my blog-designing skills but I really don’t. I just ate a bunch of Swedish Fish and Twizzlers and now I have a headache. I’m thinking about maybe, possibly eating some hummus or maybe a slice of pizza to balance it out but I can’t decide. I think hummus would be the healthy idea.
OH WAIT. There’s more.
My goblins are plagued.
It’s not the flu but it’s close. Vomiting. Fever. And then a couple days of a red eye. No, not pink eye. It just turns red like someone whacked them in the eyeball with a pointy ferret and made their sclera bleed. Why? I wish I could say.
But because the holy terrors are sick, I have spent a lot of time on the sofa. The youngest goblin – who is ironically named, Fae – is a little cuddle monster when she’s not feeling well. And I’m just such a horrid Queen that I bother to make her feel better. So, the housework is ignored and not much is cooked but at least the half-pint is feeling happy throughout the day and not screaming bloody murder every time she blinks…like her brother, Tank. That punk is a pain. There’s no stopping him. He doesn’t cuddle. He doesn’t smile at the pretty birds outside the window. No, he topples all the toys out of the 60 pound toy box and stands on it to shriek like a banshee as close to the feathery things as possible. Did I mention he’s 3? His name is Tank for good reason.
The two older Goblinesses are also ill but are old enough and wise enough not to tempt me. They put their lego sets together or read or sleep whenever their little hearts feel like it.
“My liege…however do you find time to write?”
Write?! Do you jest? I can’t write when the castle smells of vomit and bad, bacteria-filled breath. Bah!
“Write.” Yeah, right.