24 March 2004

I'm not sure what's going on upstairs, and I'm not sure I want to...

Jake's mom just said (imagaine deep Southern accent starting now): "I'm-a cut your gizzard out!"

(Sounds of Jake protesting...)

At this point I have to join in... "Don't cut his gizzard out! Don't you NEED those?"

I don't hear the reply.

I yell up the stairs: "Mrs. Jensen, I thought you weren't a nurse anymore..."

I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Jensen, waving a shapr object at Jake at the top of the stairs with a big grin on her face. "I'm not a nurse! Now I'm a surgeon!"

Oh gahd.

I said: "Oh gahd."

I giggled and didn't look up the stairs again. Then next thing I hear is Jake yelling: "But I'm NOT a chicken! I'm your SON...!"

It's a weird, weird world... I hear some giggling now. I think I'll sign off here and go check on Jake's gizzard, and find out why his mother wanted to remove it...

Love,
~Helena*