I had declared it impossible, and that’s not something I do.
Your train table and its labyrinth of tracks is the eighth wonder of the world.
I’d been up in your bedroom with it for *hours (*debatable), sweating on my knees amongst a furry of instructional printouts declared useless. They should connect here! I just need one more little curved piece! Son of a! What the hell? Why is this so hard? They should fit! They don’t fit! Why don’t they freakin’ fit???!!!!
THIS IS THE GOD DAMN WORST THING ON THE ENTIRE PLANET!
“That’s it,” I declared, completely frustrated, “let’s go downstairs, let’s take a break, let’s get some grilled cheese and strawberries.”
I was crestfallen.
And then, I saw this:
I was about to give up, and then fate granted me a strawberry that looks like a behind.
Oh, thank you, great goddess Fortuna, for deeming me worthy of such sophomoric snickering!
It was exactly the pick-me-up I needed.
Two-and-a-half grilled cheeses later (more good fortune, food scraps, you guys weren’t hungry), I marched back up those stairs and completed that nightmare of a table.
Sometimes, babies, life pulls through. Just when you are down and you think you can’t take it anymore, you get a little push to help make it up that mountain. For example, you find yourself granted with butt food.
Faith, babies. You have to have faith.
Signing off now, from my post on top of the world…
Be back Monday. Oh, oh happy weekend. Oh, oh happy day.