dirty little secrets
Passivist Pastor: What happened to the soap in our shower?
Renegade Robyn: Uhhhhhhh, it broke???
Passivist Pastor: Did YOU break it?
Renegade Robyn: Uhhhhhmmm, yesssssss.
Passivist Pastor: Did you break it in the shower when you were mad at me?
Renegade Robyn: Uhhhhhh, yes. Sometimes I like to take things and throw them and turn them into smaller things when I'm mad.
Passivist Pastor: You break things?
Renegade Robyn: Yes.
Passivist Pastor: What else have you broken?
Renegade Robyn: Well, have you ever noticed how often I need hairbrushes?
Passivist Pastor: Hairbrushes? Wow.
At this point, I'd like to blog in my defense about the fact that I've had a spider on my bathroom windowsill for two weeks, which I have not killed, and I peek in on it every time I go to the bathroom (when I'm not breaking brushes) to see what it's doing. But then I realized having taken on a pet spider doesn't make me appear less crazy. And also in my defense, the Passivist Pastor was asleep this morning when this occurred:
SC: Robyn! Someone's gum is on the dining room table!
The dining room table! I personally spent more time and effort getting that table than I did birthing my bio child. I nearly spent as much of my life looking for that table as the entire gestational period for Nate (who is at camp, btw, so it's not his gum). It is my only new, nice, purchased piece of furniture.
I have to brush my hair now.