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I’ve had a whole week on annual leave from my library job, and I’ve been able to spend lots of extra time with the small-fry.

Who told me yesterday she liked playing with me and me NOT being on the computer like I was ALWAYS not having my eyes on her but TYPING a story and she would not wait one more minute but play with me NOW.

She’s got blue eyes, and her iris goes violet when she’s pissed off. It’s a stop-typing-put-your-eyes-on-my-eyes warning. Scary. Apparently, I’ve got a look like that too.

Guilt comes with motherhood and it’s there no matter what you do, but if you’re owed email, blame her, not me. I’m off to do some dressing up for a fairy-castle tea-party with my very own enemy of promise right now. 

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