Inheritance

Another cold has settled in – the kind that makes me want to stick sharp pointy things into my itchy ears to scratch them and is irritating the hell out of my throat. This has been going on since Sunday and I’m not impressed. I think Moira has it now too which isn’t going to be fun.

However, unhealthy yesterday I still dragged us out of the house for a little while instead of dealing with the wrath of She Who Must Be Entertained! We went to the mall (yuck! but I had no energy to walk around the neighbourhood plus it was cold out) so we could go to the big play area. Luckily the waiting list at the play area wasn’t too long, esophagitis we only had 10 minutes to kill before it was our turn so I walked us into Old Navy since it was the closest store. I’m not a fan of Old Navy at all – the clothes are crap and it stinks in the literal sense. I mean, doctor really – does anyone know what that smell is? I say it is the smell of sweatshop child labour which is probably a) not politically correct and b) true. Anyway, I walked around a bit and Moira keep making this face, this scrunched up grimace followed by a weird half-laugh and looking at me with a big question shining out of her lovely blue eyes. Mum (she said telepathically), what the hell is making my nostrils burn?

She is definitely my daughter.

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