now that's progressive!

My cousin Abby, who is my little brothers age, came over today. I was in bed vaguely listening to the two of them screaming about wars and dinosaurs, when I heard her say "Let's play doctor!" Although I hadn't ever played that when I was little, I TOTALLY knew the implications of that game. I tried to overhear them, in case I needed to interfere, but I soon learned that the game had involved into something much less scandalous but equally frightening:

Dr. Abby: What seems to be the problem, Mr. Alex?

Alex: My nose fell off!!!

Dr. Abby: Oh no...there seems to be a problem. Your insurance only covers you from the mouth down! I'm afraid I can't help you. Goodbye Mr. Alex.

Alex: Goodbye Dr. Abby.

peachy?

This summer I worked a second job for this exceptionally rich, exceptionally sweet old lady doing various outdoorsy, gardening-type chores. I thought I would hate it because I had to wake up early each day and by the end of it I would be drenched in sweat, but it turned out to be more lovely than I imagined. She had a little farm, with figs, peaches, cherries, and various vegetables and flowers. I would wander around and practice my daydreaming, which I've now been able to slip into with a bit too much ease. I would often do my daydreaming by the fruit trees...there's just something a bit magical about growing fruits, to me at least. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the hunger, maybe it was the pesticides, maybe it was the thrill of stealing or my newly recovered imagination, but I have never tasted a more delicious peach.

Hold it in

When the dog starts barking for no apparent reason it's safe to assume that he has to poop. Either that or there's a ghost in the kitchen. Since I'm obedient and loyal I take him out to do his business. I'm supposed to go to the back yard and make sure he dumps it by the edge of the woods but depending on my mood I might just take him to the front yard and hope my mother doesn't notice the shit in her garden. I took him to the back today and remembered what an awful, weedy mess that place is. In the summertime the mosquitoes go nuts back there and while I watched Peter squat in the bushes I was swarmed by little vampires. A bite on my neck, a bite on my arm and a bite on my leg. I was out there for three minutes!

I can only come to the conclusion that my blood is exceptionally tasty. And now I wait for Edward Cullen to whisk me away.