Y

I am writing tonight with my jaw clenched so tightly that several of my molars have snapped off. My mom, the cancer patient, thats right. Has been teaching the three year old Sophie to add Y to the end of everything. Babytalk Yuck!! so it's not a blanket but a blankey and a veggie and a doggie and worst of all a meaty. It shouldn't be so irritating but it's been a really long day. My mom insists on cabbage and ham for dinner, this is voluntary, we are not prisoners of war or anything. She doesn't want to be a bother so she will make it rather than eat leftover but good enchiladas. This sounds nobel unless you understant that her right hand doesn't work all that well so it would be cabbage ham and little bits of her thumb. The cabbage is so predictably bad that the thumb could only have improved it. Now mom wants Icecream, easy enough unless you are my mom, she wants strawberries blended with them, the strawberries that are frozen to the consistancy of river pebbles, so after I attempt to blend them in the blender I then have to strain the milkshake for big shards of the plastic spoon that shattered in the blender. I am doing all this blinded by the milkshake and frozen strawberries that are dripping off my eyebrows into the strawberry slop. The entire time mom is advising me on every step including my breathing and anger management techniques. But now the day is over and life at the moment seeems pretty good. Mom's chemo is working really well, she has never been sick one time. She and Sopnie love each other and sophie is sleeping soundley in her little Dora underpants. I have been teaching her to say please and it is working. the last thing she said to me before falling asleep was Please don't be really horrible. Mom's really old blender is smoking softly on the back porch so it won't ignite and burn down the house and I have the new Elizabeth George book on tape to listen to (careless in Red) really good. So while I complain I have a lot to be greatful for.