Shoes = chew toys that you store on your feet.
Whose shoes got eaten?
Oh, actually no one’s. Just Wesley gnawing on his own shoes. But he does seem to agree with the dogs on this front.
An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
Shoes = chew toys that you store on your feet.
Whose shoes got eaten?
Oh, actually no one’s. Just Wesley gnawing on his own shoes. But he does seem to agree with the dogs on this front.
I put full spectrum light bulbs in one room of my house today, and, oh my goodness, I wish I’d done it ages ago. It looks just like sunlight.
I took a rehabilitated Borg infant to Trek Theatre’s amazing, final performance of “Measure of a Man” tonight. They really captured the heart of the episode.
Trying to convince the baby that a bunch of empty boxes are entertaining so I can work on my novel… Play with the recycling! It’s fun!
I’ve now sold all the fiction that I wrote between finishing college and joining the Wordos!
I tried to take a nap and woke up to see several very full glasses of water balanced around my computer and a six-year-old holding an egg while saying, “I want to show you a magic trick.”
Elaine and I played mer-otters and zombie mer-otters in the wave pool today. Yes, mer-otters. They’re otters with mermaid tails.
“What’s it called… Not a molecule… Not thermometer… Yeah, calculator!” –Elaine
Wesley has become a three-tooth.
Wesley laughed much of the way walking Elaine home. As far as I could tell, he was laughing whenever he saw a plant that was particularly bushy.