Yesterday afternoon I started a post about Kyle’s haircut being rescheduled and the tortuous path of bad haircuts that lead me to start taking him to my stylist at the swanky salon across town. I even had pictures.
And while I couldn’t sleep last night I contemplated writing a post on the subject of the strange pre-purchase fear (usually reserved to buying airline tickets) I started to feel due to the fact that we might be getting the Highlander tomorrow!
But all of that went crashing out the window this morning when I developed a seething rage directed at Kyle’s father whom we affectionately call Stuppetto. I’m not going to go into details – suffice it to say that it has left me in a foul mood with nothing nice to say.
I think I'll go stand on my head for awhile.