I've been a clean livin' boy, I promise you

I cut the boys' hair tonight. They hate it and complain endlessly when I cut their hair, because for some reason I guess it's not a horribly itchy living nightmare at the salon? Like official "hairstylists" have magic powers or something? Bull. They just like to make me sad. But I couldn't put up with their raggedy selves any longer. Emmett looked like an actual, living cat had taken up residence on his head, Ike looked like a toothless redneck, and Grant just needed to not think he was better than the other two. I appeased them by letting everybody watch Spongebob during the haircuts. Spongebob solves many problems.

Ike and Willa and I ate lunch at the Bombay Grill with Aleece and Lucy today. I put on a good show, but I didn't like my food as much as I usually do. Ever since I smashed my brainpan food hasn't sounded or tasted good to me. This is an alarming development that I hope is temporary. I've lost five pounds since Thursday, so I'm basically like a waif/model now, but I'd rather have lamb saagwala taste good again. I didn't even want to eat Lucky Charms at John's parents' house this weekend. Oh, it is distressing to me.

I used to live alone before I knew you

I just got a message from the school that was nothing more than a fuzzy recording of the principal's announcements over the PA, and random kids in the background telling the secretary about another kid who's always being a jerk to them. But because I have a Mother Heart I was able to deduce that the message was from Emmett, and he's calling to let me know that he left his lunch on the dining table and wants me to bring it to him.

Because I am headed out to do errands I am going to take it to him. Otherwise, tough nuts. Did I mention the Mother Heart?

UPDATE
Another message. This one goes:
Emmett: ". . . or Willa probably stole it." (Disgruntled breathing.) (Slamming the phone down.)

I think he started talking before the voicemail started recording.

possession is nine-tenths

This morning I was reading Goldilocks and the Three Bears to Pinga, and I was only trying to use it to open a dialogue about accepted behavioral norms regarding trespassing and owner's rights, but Pinga was not on board.

Pinga: "Mom, don't say that. Don't say, 'Naughty. She shouldn't have done that.'"

I like the version of the story where Goldilocks gets eaten.