Lie Like a Persian Rug (sic) (PG)

I’m going to deal with a couple of things in today’s blog.

Lying. My dad passed on some of the stuff Uncle Donald had told his daughter, my cousin, about his experience growing up. His brother was livid. (Love that word.) He said that he got his first bike when he was twenty years old. He wasn’t the only son to receive a bike – none of them had bikes. There are other “memories” to share, but what is the point? We can be glad we don’t live close to the lying uncle and I will adjust to not believing anything he says.
B’s dad was a liar too, so when I talk to him about all this he doesn’t have comfort for me. B already endured it. Not only that, while he was pretty much his dad’s sole caregiver, his dad was lying about that. It shows a lot of forgiveness that B is over it, but we’re still uncomfortable around that side of the family because we don’t really know what he said. Ladies and Gentlemen: Stop lying. If you don’t, you suck.

Baby – First thing out of Small’s mouth this morning was asking about a baby. She asked when we would get one in the future. I’ve told her easily one hundred times that there will be no baby. I try to tell her that I’m broken and that we can’t do it. I don’t tell her that he dad had a vasectomy. (And his doctor has done hundreds and hundreds without one failing, so shut up about your friend whose did.) The only way we’ll get a baby is if someone leaves one to us when the parents die. The probability of more children is very low. I wish I could tell her we’d get a dog instead, but I don’t know if even that will ever happen, either.

This week I gained .8 pounds. That’s what I get when I eat cheetos and pie and ice cream. Oh, and a bit of three pieces of cake. I deserve it but will drop it quickly, I hope. I’ve loved yoga and so long as I’m active in my practice, my shoulder stays healed. I skipped two days, though, so I best get on it. It’s a ten year old injury and needs some attention.

$30. People like to give me money. It’s wonderful, as we don’t have a lot discretionary income and I get things that I want but don’t need. Examples would be Sonic Happy Hour where Small and I get 50 cent slushies, or hair dye. Silly things like that. B has one pair of athletic shoes so I decided to buy another pair for him. Sweet and generous, non?. Problem is that $30 was removed from my wallet. I don’t know where or when it happened but I don’t have the money anymore. It is so stupid to be in our situation. If blame for our financial situation was to be handed out I would probably deserve a lot of it. I would rather live under grace than blame and guilt though. I have every reason to suck up that grace. I will, but I still want the money back.
Baby needs a new pair of shoes.

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