Baby boy is off to gramma’s. I’m awake, but mostly just bleary. The phlegm is freely flowing… ugh, will this never stop??
Loved the comment made to the big three CEOs who showed up at Congress to ask for money since they each took private airplanes. They were asked if they couldn’t at least have downgraded to first class or plane-pooled? Holy shit. No kidding.
Mum told me that people are looking at forgoing toys for kids this holiday season and going to clothes instead. Ugh. Yeah. Well, I’ll figure out something small for the kids. I think I could make a fleece “lovey” for Aidan and he’d be thrilled. I can donate the baby toys that he isn’t interested in anymore and look for some trucks.
But honestly? Aidan doesn’t care about that stuff. Bren is old enough to understand things a bit more… but we’re still going to write his letter to Santa. Then I’ll talk to the gramma’s and see what the three of us can do. I have an idea of what he’s interested in… Nothing huge thankfully. I’ve already talked to him about the “greedies” and how Santa is a non-profit… ok, so maybe I worded it more carefully than that!
Time for that shower. I hope I hear back on the tutoring job before the holiday – but I doubt it… Ugh.
Cheers from a much mellower moonfire.