the Dalaverse

Meeeeeep Jack Dav on NBC.

Okay. Now that that's over with. Tonight I have been tugged on, bowled over, pinched, hugged, kissed, smacked, poked, treated as a pony, used as a couch, and soaked from head to foot. The seat of my jeans is coated in nacho cheese. My shoes have been so high in a crabcrapapple tree that they had to be squirted down with a hose; they have also been down somebody else's shorts, in the freezer, in the back of a truck, wrapped in masking tape, and used as lightsabers. The bottoms of my feet are roughly the color of tar. The collar of my t-shirt is so stretched out it could be a boatneck. Every single inch of me smells like crab despite the fact I didn't even get close to the table. There are gum wrappers all over the Jeep's backseat, sole remainders of an entire pack of spearmint. God only knows what's in my hair.

Damn, I missed my rugrats. There's nothing like walking into a room and having five or six voices shout your name like you're Santa Claus and the ice cream man all in one.

Michelle's girls were there today too. I hadn't seen them since the disaster at Christmas. Sarah's already a writer at six. Mary's not so bony as she used to be. I promised I'd take them all out to the movies before the end of summer (had to refuse Larissa's desperate plea that I take a few home tonight, though. "Not even Allison? How about Lauren, she's easy. Oh please take Jack!"). I'm under strict orders not to return unless I bring the Herd Your Horses game. I think I somehow ended up owing Christopher six bucks for the return of my shoes and my keys.

Need a shower so very, very badly.

OMG IT'S TEH SMILE ::dies::