Tackling, and hugs are two different things.

This baby agrees with me.

Chad is mental. No insane. NO insane AND mental.
You know, what? This baby just agrees with everything I say. And you just CAN'T argue with cute babies that can't even talk yet!


AND it also agrees that the strange and traumatizing incident that happened last night WAS NOT MY FAULT.

I take the hat. I put it on my head. I look good. Chad says he has to go. I give him the ha- I get tackled. The truth hurts. No really, it hurt. Hugs are great. Lovely, cuddly, friendly, nice, affectionate, fun, whatever. TACKLES are scary, surprising, painful, and confusing.

Why did he tackle me? Why didn't he just take the hat? Why is my face funny looking? Why do pigs fly? Yadda yadda yadda.

On another less traumatizing note, my sister might have swine flu. Ha.

Today is the first day of my English class at Brook Hills. I'm excited, in a non-excited way if that makes sense. It probably doesn't, but it's not noon yet so I still have an excuse. I have this ENORMOUS thesaurus of about 80 gazillion synonyms. I can't say 5 million because it probably has way more than that :(. It's a monster. I like synonyms though, so I guess it's like a beasty good monster that I love. Or um something like that (I repeat, STILL NOT NOON. 11:11 AMMMM)
Horses horses horses horses. I'm not crazy about horses, I just like the part in Sleepless in Seattle when Meg Ryan (or whatever her name is) is singing in the car to an edited version of jingle bells with a slightly more annoying tone than the original. :) Horses horses horses horses.

Okay. I'm done. I hope you have a wonderful tackle-free day :] (with good coffee.)
Sayonara


Hugs on the other hand...