Human Bein'

All those moppets have equal value: whether bein' white, beige, tan, brown, athletic, handicapped, mute, blind, deaf, happy, sad, made in China or Macao.  I need know only this, that they are all made in the image of their Maker.

Once they start walkin' and talkin' - it's a different matter.  Born that way or made that way, they're walkin' and talkin' now.

I have the right and the responsibility to judge whether the walkin' and talkin' is acceptable, or not.  Acceptable.  (Loaded!)  We all do it.  Judge: Decide.  I see other moppets doin and talkin things I find unAcceptable.   They - obviously - think it is Acceptable.  I have the right and responsibility to differ.  But some of them moppets are startin to insist that I accept what they walkn and talkin.  Not very liberal of them.

According to them moppets, me a bigot bein'.

A Different Association

I went to the Parent Association meeting last night at Boo's school. We are sending him to a Christian school. Not your run-of-the-mill, Christian-heritage or Christian-background school, but a true-to-His Word private school that prays before every meeting and every meal as well as most behavior infractions. Some of you might consider it "too religious" for your taste.

Anyway.

They served cookies and little bottles of water last night. The water was called "Nirvana." Hee.

Strep Torture

As a kid, my parents often told us to "cham-uh," or tolerate it. You know, a nice way of saying "suck it up." So it finally dawned on me that maybe I should call the doctor. I mean, I couldn't swallow. Anything. If you get my drift. It never occurred to me that I'd have strep but that's what the doc thought and prescribed me an anti-biotic. Thank God! Until HH brought the stuff home from the pharmacy.




Honestly. I said I can't swallow!

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Shoot

I believe in diversity. Some of my best friends are Republican.

A couple of months ago, a dear friend lamented having to attend a fundraiser party later that afternoon with her hubs. She half-jokingly asked if I'd go instead. I half-seriously asked what the event was. "Oh, it's for the NRA," to which I piped "Sure! I'll be outside with a placard, picketing!" We both laughed hartily, in that "oh, we'll agree to disagree" kind of way.

Fast-forward to today. I've been having trouble with my thumb. Just achey like I've never experienced. So I made the 45-minute drive to visit my Orthopaedic Surgeon.

Diagnosis: Trigger finger.

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