Three of the monsters my 3-year-old class made today. How GREAT are they?
I wrote to him and invited him to the cajun dance band (remember, we had that fun cajun dance workshop?) playing this weekend. Twice. Then he wrote a very terse reply (even though he'd written in his last email that he hoped we could be friends) and, perhaps hastily, I wrote back that he was killing me.
(...because he is! What is he doing and how? He's like a voodoo king, poking things into my heart from the safety of his clean little apartment.)
I will be dead within a month at this rate. A slow, confused, and painful death. And you will all witness it. Lucky you!
ugggghh.
I promise for this to be over - just as soon as I can make it go away.
