Yesterday, I told my daughter all about menstruation.
This will be the first line of my post tomorrow, too. The post where I actually tell the story. Those of you who don't want to hear rite-of-passage stories, don't read tomorrow's post.
Tonight's post is just to say that I am asleep and somehow still writing, having been awoken by my husband while I slept in my younger daughter's bed. ("Mommy, sleep with me just for a little while?!")
If I couldn't touch type, there would be no readable blog post at all today. There would still be a post of some kind, because Julia "Mwah Ha Ha" D. cursed me with this post-every-day curse. It's like the friggin' red shoes story only slightly less gory and religious and I don't think I'll have to cut of my hands to keep them from typing. Let's just say that they're doing their work without much else of my brain being engaged, and with my eyes closed while I sleep-blog.
If hadn't taught myself to type in college with a stupid computer typing game, this post would just be whatever random characters blind hen-pecking would yield. That, and whatever might be put on the screen by the force of my drool hitting the a random key on the keyboard.
Good night.
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