Sadly, I did not win a million dollars at Monopoly.  I weep.

My son peed all over himself while we were wandering around looking for a javelina.  I cringe.

Sometimes my daughter gets all wound up and cannot turn her mind off to go to sleep.  I cannot relate in any way.  I sigh. I sleep. 

I have discovered that Heather relates, though, and now my daughter is secure in the knowledge that she is not alone.  I smile.

Heather’s baby is very cute and happy as long as she is being held and is the center of attention.  I oblige.

I think we would all be very cute and happy if we were constantly being held and the center of attention.  I wish.

Heather’s son is what we call a “morning person.”  I yawn.

My home is now open to any guests who may or may not want to come and go golfing with my husband.  I hint.

It’s still quite warm here and I still wear shorts.  I laugh.

I have a $%$ canker sore because I ate a *&$ muffin with $*& walnuts in it.  I swear.

I have a ton of laundry to do.  I blog.