Tuesday. Meh.

Everyone always freaks out about Monday. OHMYGODIT'SMONDAYSOMEBODYKILLME!!!!!! It's this ridiculous run-on sentence of lamenting and woe and I'm just frakking sick and tired of it. Maybe, if alla youse jackasses hadn't been up late on Sunday, acting like it was Friday or Saturday, you wouldn't be so tired and out of it, amiright?

Which is why I'm convinced that the worst day of the week isn't Monday, but rather Tuesday. See, it's still the beginning of the week, you now have TWO days of not-much-sleep under your belt, and there's still a lot of homework/housework/workwork to be done. The only good Tuesday is an eating-out Tuesday, and even then, it's marginally better. But only marginally.

Yet again, I helped out Mrs. V this morning and I ended up sobbing, alone, in her classroom as I put together the kids' art books. The final project is a self-portrait done by each child and then notes from the other children about said child. So, of course, I read what the other kids had to say about Heath and Amelia. Then?!? I went and looked at what Heath and Amelia had to say about the other kids. Bawling, I tell you. I was already snotted up from this cold, but I just let the tears flow. Why can't they be this sweet and wonderful always? *Sigh* I think third grade has been my favorite. They're grown up enough that I can reason with them but they're still young and so very awesome.

I'm going to be on another paranormal podcast next Tuesday. Yeah, this is getting out of hand. Me, nattering on for an hour while all of three people listen and tune in. We'll see.

Jarrod has been obsessed with the song "Eye of the Tiger" (don't know HOW he found it) and has watched videos on YouTube of "Rocky" clips set to the song. Now? He wants to watch "Rocky." I told him fine, but absolutely NO boxing. EVER! He acted disappointed. I swear, if that child ends up in a fight ring, I quit.

So, to end our ritual blog connection, I give you today's picture of Andy. All roar and no bite.

Slán, ya'll!