it's a fiery, fiery place

november 19

I'm too lazy to do the date today and it's too late to worry about it. This is *Mila* updating my profile on Facebook. Yes, I let her do some things for me on Facebook, like decorate an Xmas tree or a snowman. She's better at it than me and Polly Pocket was too boring for her today.

So, we had to have a few little talks today, *Mila* and I. It turns out she thinks she is my parent. Sitting around waiting for her this morning drove me insane. There was an excuse to goof around at every corner of the day. At one point, I lost my cool and stormed around the house.

Willow: "Get your shoes on so we can go, ALREADY!"
*Mila*: "Ha ha. Are you getting mad? I still love you mom."
Willow: "You still love me? What did I do? Did I just have a flounce?" (see below for description)
*Mila*: "Ha ha, yes mom. You had a flounce. But I still love you."

Turns out, I am still having flounces. Yes, I can admit it. And I am admitting it here to my mother on this blog. I had a little moment in my life where I just can't get it together and I storm around irritated by everything. It's called a flounce!

Later in the day:

Willow: "Because I had a flounce, I guess I'm going to hell?"
*Mila*: "Ha ha. Yes, you are going there. And it's a fiery, fiery place!"

What? Is she really three? Did we just miss an entire lifetime? What planet am I on? Is there a parallel universe? Why does my three year old laugh at me and give me advice about Hell? How does she know it's a fiery, fiery place? Really. How does she know that? Was it a Gary Larsen cartoon?

signed, the willow