Today was a pretty good day. You went and got your hair done this morning with Leslie. The whole morning was in jeopardy of not happening, as your attitude was so out of control yesterday and this morning, we almost called and cancelled. I'll save yesterday's drama for another post.
You worked on your art this morning, making some tiles to sell at Sandy's shop. I had to put a time limit on your art. You proceeded to tell me that "your rights" indicate that you don't have boundaries on your art. According to your therapist, you have these "rights". I responded that I was limiting your time, not your art. You didn't like this so much, and spent the majority of the morning arguing with me about it (even though we discussed in detail the amount of tiles that would be made in the morning...for this exact reason).
I worked a new job this morning, working for an older woman, so when I came home you were already back from your hair appointment. You chose almost black, with red highlights this time. I'm not a super huge fan of the really dark hair, because you're so light skinned, but it's just hair, and whatever. I didn't feel like having argument number 5,623 this afternoon.
We spent the afternoon at home, all three of us. You came over to me while I was sitting on the couch, and basically hung yourself over me. Typical. :) You started trying to tickle me, which I was not interested in (even though you tried really hard), so since your butt was over my knees, I decided to give you a wedgie. One turned into an eventual four. You tried really hard to give me one, but with the way I was sitting, and my underwear starting further down, you were at a loss, and never ended up returning the wedgie.
I had 'em good and tight up in there. We were laughing so hard. You said, "Oh my gosh, they're so bunched up in there...it's like a winter thong!" This made me laugh even more, because I immediately envisioned the Victoria's Secret people coming up with a thicker, more cozy version of the summer thong, just to keep things warmer in the colder months. Haha.
Then I took you to go paintballing with the kids from Cornerstone's teen group tonight. It was in East Mesa. A lot of kids turned out, and as usual when other kids are around, I became non-existent. I've come to regard this is normal "mingling procedure". I went home while you were there, and when I came back to pick you up, the first thing you said to me was, "I got shot in the vagina...twice." I couldn't help but laugh. I said, "Well, that sucks."
You told me all about all of your other battle wounds on our way back to the car, but the worst one of all was the one to the "twat" (as I referred to it), and that made you laugh harder about it all. I don't know if it was because I referred to it as a twat, or if you had never heard that term. I'm sure you've heard and said worse, but maybe it just caught you off guard that I used the word. At least I didn't use the "C" word.
Anyhow, you told me that after you got hit down there, you went to this group of boys in your group, and said, "I just got hit in the privates. You guys need to protect me." You said at first they were a little shocked, but then they were like, "Okay, that's cool", and you pretty much hid behind them the rest of the time.
I laughed so hard. We both laughed so hard.
After your shower it was time for cuddle therapy, which didn't last as long tonight because you fell asleep fast. I guess you had a good day. At least that's what you told me (despite the few welts you got tonight at paintball.)
I hope you remember the good days that you have, like today...even though you got shot in the twat.
Love you...
