i want a mini me
i went running jogging laboriously walking yesterday because i had a dream between 7am-8am where connie lifted me onto her shoulders and carried my sorry tush the rest of the way home because i was too out of shape to make it. the rarely-spoken curse of being skinny is that you let yourself believe that you're fit, when in fact you're a fluffy hippopotamus squeezed into a compact antelope suit, and you have to take a break moving from tree shade to tree shade.
phew, long sentences.
if i ever have children, it's going to be so that i can baby-accessorize like mad. faux-hawks and dreadlocks and afros with baby-sized afro picks sticking out here and there. mini suspenders and moccasins and newsboy caps and competely unnecessary legwarmers. all pint-sized. once the kid stops wearing what i pick out, i'm giving it back. i don't want a kid. i want a mini-me.