You’d be the delight of an entire cannibal village.
~The Boy, extolling the virtues of my roundness while sneaking in a snuggle.
Me, I’m not impressed.
You’d be the delight of an entire cannibal village.
~The Boy, extolling the virtues of my roundness while sneaking in a snuggle.
Me, I’m not impressed.
So 202 posts down the road, I’m suddenly curious. Do you know me at all? Have you stashed away nuggets of trivia that you didn’t realize you knew? Thing is, when I read a blog, it’s hardly ever about the person behind it. If the writing doesn’t hold me, I’m out of there. Funny then that I’m asking you to do precisely what I don’t. Humor me, though. Put it down to Leonine narcissism. (Or my delight at social media.) There, I answered one question already. Head over:
Click.
Let’s play.
Like Handel said in the last act of The Messaiah….
~A text the Boy just sent to indicate he’s finally received his new passport. Just for this, I’d marry him.
(The answer, by the way, is Hallelujah.)
Maids should flaunt their skill sets as “Parsi-trained”. Then they can claim Rs. 200 more.
~The Boy presenting his brainwave of the week while commenting on what he believes is my community’s obsession with all things clean and well-maintained.
(The maid, by the way, has upped the ante and surprises me by moving gas cylinders and swabbing behind them. Could it really be, sweet lord?)
Vox populi