pillow forts

pedobear-fort-pedo I just worked on the second day of a short zombie film, and my friend’s one-year-old is crawling around the apartment like an iguana, till he settles under the table. My friend said this is one of his favorite spots in the apartment. I forgot how when you’re little, cozy spaces are the best and I remember that I also used to love hanging out under tables. My mom used to make me pb/j-no-crust sandwiches in a barn lunch box and silo thermos of milk, which I would have under the table while everyone else sat in chairs. Another cozy space memory is when my aunt bought a fridge, we were allowed to keep the cardboard box, and my cousins and I took turns sitting in it. Husband says all kids like cozy spots. That’s why forts are so popular.

work injuries

droopy You know, one of Husband’s gigs is bartending, but he keeps shopping up with injuries…okay, it’s happened twice, and I exaggerate, but the point is before we headed to Mexico a few years ago, he had to get stitches on the top of his head, and then yesterday he came home with a black eye. No one punched him, but somehow, when he was lifting something heavy the lid came open and caught him in the eye.

Now he kind of reminds me of Droopy Dog.