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Posts

  • WHAT IS THE POINT OF HIKING?

    When I go hiking, my objective is to get to the end of the trail. I am NOT the type of person who can trek half way up a mountain, and then turn around. No fucking way. If I start walking up a goddamn hill, you bet your sweet ass I am going to get to the top!

    I am definitely not one to dilly dally, dawdle, or meander. I wouldn’t dream of straying from the trail. I look straight ahead and propel my body forward. I don’t take breaks. EVER! I barely stop for water, and certainly wouldn’t dream of eating – that would slow me down! I’ve got places to go!!

    So can you imagine my horror when I realized that I have given birth to the type of hiker who wants to linger and explore!?

    This was my experience hiking with The Munch.

    .1 miles in: “Mom! Lets go check out these rocks over there!” (She jumps over rocks for 10 minutes).

    We get back on the path and walk 25 feet. “Hey, look at this right here. These rocks! Let’s go check them out!” (She plays on rocks for another 5 minutes.)

    “Mom, I am hungry! Let’s have snack!” (She eats a bar).

    We walk 100 feet farther down the path: “MOM!! Check out these rocks! Let’s go over here! Aren’t these so cool!?” (More rock playing).

    We get back on the path. “Mom. I’m hungry again. Can I have my seaweed chips?”

    She walks WITH her seaweed chips for .2 miles.

    “Mom, let’s take a little rest. Can I have some of my sammich?”

    She eats half, of a half, of her sammich.

    Back on the path for 20 feet.

    “Mom, can I have the other half, of that half, of my sammich.”

    She stops, finishes that half, and we walk 80 feet.

    “Mom, can I have some water?”

    She drinks water, we walk .2 miles.

    “Mom!! Check out this hill! Can I go up it?”

    I remind her that the hill is NOT on the path, and we should continue on the path.

    “Ummm I think I’m going to go up and down this hill a few times. Will you come with me? PLEASE!?”

    I again remind her that said hill is NOT the path.

    “COME ON MOM! PLEASE!”

    We go up and down the hill a few times.

    “Can I have the other half of my sammich?”

    She eats her sammich.

    This was my experience for the ENTIRE 3 MILE HIKE!! And get this. SHE DIDN’T EVEN CARE ABOUT GETTING TO THE END OF THE TRAIL! She just wanted to enjoy nature, look around, take breaks, eat snacks, and investigate the terrain. I guess where I am more “goal oriented,” The Munch is more “process oriented.”

    OF COURSE THE UNIVERSE GAVE ME A CHILD WHO APPRECIATES THE JOURNEY NOT THE OUTCOME – TO TORTURE ME!

    hike-blog

  • We are not in NYC anymore

    It has been 6 years since I lived in the city. Over half a decade of cuntree living where I have learned to become comfortable with spiders in my bed, eviscerated mice on my floor, and ripping ticks out of my body on a nightly basis. I am accustomed to power outages, mega snowstorms, and black flies coming out of my ass. Seriously. I think I need to see a doctor about that. I have officially substituted my “New York party girl” lifestyle for my new identity of “woman in woods dry humping trees.”

    You know how when you kill a lobster, you throw it in water and boil it slowly so it doesn’t notice it’s dying? I guess that’s kinda been my life. The change is obvious to everyone else, but I haven’t really noticed my gradual demise into becoming a total hick.

    So my friend Mika (who I’ve known for 13 years) came to visit the other day, and I was over the moon with excitement to see her!! When she got to my house, she took one look at my overall physical presentation (including braids I had been sleeping in for 3 days) and just kind of stared for a minute.

    Mika: I can’t get over this outfit? We are seriously not in New York anymore.
    Toni: I actually kind of dressed up for you?

    I mean when I think about it, holy shit I am seriously kind of scummy. But when you don’t really see other humans that often – and when you do they are New Hampshire people who wear their nice fleece jackets out to restaurants – there just isn’t the culture of caring of metropolitan areas.

    Part of why I live in the thickets is because of the lifestyle I am giving The Munch. I actually enjoy being in cities, but I think her life has a better quality in this wholesome natural environment. Right? Like isn’t it kind of a magical childhood to grow up in the forest surrounded by woodland creatures and innocence?

    So I decided to ask Munch what she thought about our living situation considering she is a huge motivation for why I am here.

    Toni: Hey Munch, do you like growing up in the country?
    Munch: Yes!
    Toni: Would you rather live in the city?
    Munch: No. I like living in the country!
    Toni: What do you like about it?
    Munch: Well, there is more grass. And you don’t have to walk everywhere because you can drive places. And you can go swimming outside. If you live in a city you have to go find a building with a pool in it to go swimming – but here you can swim in the fresh air. And you don’t have that many neighbors in the country, because in the city there are too many neighbors. Also, I like my neighbors here in the country because they are my family. The city has too many people and they all probably fart a lot. I mean, maybe just in their beds, but I bet you could smell it if you were their neighbor.

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    June 29, 2015 • Birth • Views: 1108

  • Just Because You Are Privileged Doesn’t Mean You Have To Be Entitled

    My kid is privileged. Not like Kim Kardashian’s daughter North West or anything… she doesn’t have $100,000 diamond earrings, wear designer Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dresses, of have birthday parties where a giraffe does cocaine off a hippo’s tits. We don’t have it like that. But The Munch lives in a house where she is fed, warm, and has plenty of toys. She attends a wholesome school where they learn what acorns are made out of, and the biggest stress of her day is not getting to eat as many cookies as she wants. Compared to the vast majority of the world, pretty sure she has it fucking made.

    I know there is only so much you want to expose your 4-year old to regarding the tragedies of the world – but I also don’t want The Munch to be an entitled little shit who doesn’t understand how lucky she is. There is innocence to childhood you don’t want to corrupt, but letting your kid believe the world is exclusively a benevolent place can also be corrupting. There is a delicate balance between being truthful, and just traumatizing. I don’t think I need to explain the horror of child brides in India, but I do think we can talk about sweatshops making crappy plastic toys she doesn’t need. I am not trying to make my kid fear the world, but I do want her to have a realistic perception of it.

    I try to make these conversations authentic, and come up when appropriate. It is not like I put her to bed at night and whisper in her ear, “sleep well sweetheart… and just remember 90% of the indigenous tribes in the Amazonian rainforest have been destroyed, and every 2 minutes someone in the United States gets sexually assaulted. Nighty night.” Yet there are many opportunities to talk about complex issues and give The Munch some perspective.

    I try to provoke exchanges that help Munch understand that the world does not exist to serve her every need. No dude, you cannot keep the water running in the bath just so you can fill cups with the “waterfall.” Water is a precious resource and we have to respect it. There are children who have to walk miles to get access to water. Yeah running water is fun to play with, but once the bath is full, you have to shut it off so you don’t waste it. Fine maybe this comes to bite me in the ass when she insists I wash dishes with only a stream as thick as a pubic hair, but at least she has got the right idea!

    The Munch and I can talk about resources, environmentalism, the economy, whatever – it just has to be in a context that has meaning to her. For example, she loves to eat candy so we can debate how certain candy has a lot of chemicals, and that is why we don’t buy that kind. The chemicals are bad for your body, unfairly compete with farmers who grow organically, and make the ground all yucky. I don’t have to say how Monsanto products cause cancer or factory farmed meat comes from animals who lived in torture chambers and then were mercilessly murdered – but I can say that meat didn’t come from a happy cow, so lets find another kind.

    Kids are way smarter than we think, and they do have a sense of empathy even if they are mostly driven by their egos. They are kind of like men in that way. JUST KIDDING! There was one afternoon when Munch and I talked about homelessness, and she wanted to know if there were any children that didn’t have a house to live in.

    Munch: Who are they mom? Do you we know any of these children?
    Toni: No we don’t know them, but there are millions of them in the world.
    Munch: Can we see them?

    So we went online and looked at pictures of homeless children, and talked about why some people have money, and others don’t. It is not like we discussed major economic theory or the Federal Reserve, but she does understand the concepts of selfishness, and greed.

    Toni: Certain people have so much money that they are able to ensure that they keep making more money. Once you have a bunch of money, it is easier to maintain because you are running the businesses that make all the money. It isn’t that there isn’t enough money to go around; the problem is the way it is distributed. The people who have the most want to keep the money for themselves, and not share it.
    Munch: Why don’t they want to share? Didn’t they go to school and learn about how it is important to share?
    Toni: Well they did. But it isn’t just about the money. Money also means you have power. And people want power.
    Munch: But is the power more important than children? Why can’t the people with money give money to the children so they can have houses?
    Toni: Well, that is a good point. But it isn’t just the people that need to change. It is also the systems.
    Munch: But who makes the systems?
    Toni: The people.
    Munch: So pretty sure the people just need to change – then there will be no more children who don’t have homes.

    (Turn off that fucking bath water!!)

    privilidge-blog-(i)

  • Swimming In Bacteria Like a Boss

    Okay. So I totally fucked up. But it’s not totally my fault. It is also nature’s fault… and global warming… and all the politicians/corporations/bankers who are ass fucking the planet. But I guess it is also my fault too.

    This is what happened. I live on a lake. It is a beautiful clean mountain lake. I have always thought it was a magical, healing, energetically pure body of water. It never occurred to me to doubt its virtue. The other day my baby sitter, Lilliana, brought The Munch to the beach to go swimming and was told not to go in because of bacteria contaminating the water. When Lilliana texted me this information I was like, “what the holy dick hole. I don’t believe this shit. I have never heard of this in my life. NEVER in 30 years on this lake have I been told not to swim because of bacteria! That is some serious yuppie bullshit!!”

    I just didn’t believe the hype, and quite arrogantly considering I did ZERO research on the subject. Had I just taken… oh… I don’t know… 3 minutes on the Internet all my questions would have been solved. But NO! I was NOT going to be told that I couldn’t swim in the damn lake I have been swimming in my whole damn life.

    Okay so this is where shit got bad. Later that afternoon when I went to pick up Munch she mentioned our plan to go swimming that we had made earlier that morning before this whole debacle.

    Toni: Do you think we should care about the bacteria in the water?
    Munch: Nope.
    Toni: Cool. I am going to trust you because you have the wisdom of a 4-year old. Forget the fact that I am an adult who can and should research potentially dangerous situations. Lets do this because you, my child, say its cool.

    And we drove straight to the bacteria filled beach.

    Okay, so here is a little context. For one… august has been cold as fuck. New England weather already sucks, and our summer has been uncharacteristically short. It didn’t get warm enough to swim until July, and then we had a serious cold rainy front for most of August. Essentially we got dicked out of summer and our only swimming time. After days and days of crappy weather, it was finally a nice day to swim. To not go because of some cryptic threat seemed ludicrous.

    Then next influence is my overall denial of drastic changes in the environment. I know they exist – but I don’t want to actually believe it. I see all those kids wearing sun shirts to protect their skin from the hole in the ozone, but I keep going back to the fact that I never wore sunscreen when I was a child… so what is the big deal? It is this stubborn renouncing of obvious truths because to admit reality is too painful. Yeah maybe when I was a kid the lake wasn’t contaminated, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t now.
    Here is another element of the equation that maybe is less nature’s problem and more mine. I felt SUPER guilty about how much I have been working all summer, and wasn’t feeling like I spent enough time doing stuff outside with Munch. The fact that the season was almost over, made me feel like I didn’t appreciate it. The months went by so fast, and I spent an ample of amount of time inside working trying to make something out of my life. It was this crippling realization that my relentless ambition kept me from enjoying the fleeting warm months with my child.

    The last contributing factor to this scene is the “Holly” in me. You see, my mom –Holly- has a very particular approach to life. She is they type of woman who has mustard from the 80’s that she will put in your sandwich – ignoring the fact it expired 15 years ago – and rationalize eating it because fermentation or whatever. She has fed me rice with maggots unknowingly cooked in, because hey protein. She doesn’t measure when she cooks because measuring is for pussies. She let me ride in the back of a pick up truck because you know, safety is for weak. My mom just doesn’t give a fuck. She operates on her own frequency, and her attitude has obviously impacted my psychology.

    So being told I couldn’t swim because of some stupid bacteria seemed absurd! Forget the fact that NO ONE was at the lake. Never mind the water was eerily still and I could see the algae floating on the surface. Munch and I went anyway, had a wonderful swim, and watched the sunset.

    Sooooooooooooo…

    The next morning The Munch felt a little off. Her throat hurt, her tummy was cramping, but she seemed to pull through after breakfast so I totally forgot about it.

    Later that afternoon we again went to the beach. I assumed whatever silly little water thing HAD to be cleared up by now because it was all so ridiculous any way. Buuuuuut…. yet again it was closed. Yet this time though, there was a GIANT sign explaining what was going on with the water. So yeah…. I spend a moment looking it up, and it turns any contact with this bacteria can make you sick as fuck – including skin rashes, fever, sore throats, and stomach problems.

    Ummmm whoops.

    After I read that, I couldn’t help but feel sick myself. I couldn’t tell if it was in my paranoid head, or it was because I HAD BEEN SWIMMING IN BACTERIA FILLED WATER LIKE AN OVERCONFIDENT FOOL!

    So my guilt about not playing outside enough with my kid quickly transformed into guilt about maybe poisoning her with bacteria infested water. Luckily, she seems fine and never got to the explosive diarrhea or anal leakage stage… thank god Munch has been eating over at mom’s house having old mustard sandwiches with maggot filled rice to build her immune system.

    bacteria-blog-(i)

  • The Preppy White Hiker

    Walking is like cocaine. Seriously it is. It releases the same endorphins, and stimulates the same of the brain that makes you want to talk.  Walking while talking makes you more open, and facilitates dialogue. If you are ever in an intense argument with someone, go for a walk together and immediately the energy will change.

    When you hike a mountain with someone, not only are you high as fuck from the altitude, but also the walking. Of course on your way up it is hard to communicate because you are trying to breathe while also wondering why you went hiking in the first place, and if you even like hiking at all.  Yet after you bask in the accomplishment of making it to the top, the hike down is prime opportunity for some epic conversations.

    My friend Sasha recently came to visit me, and we went on adventure hiking up a mountain. On our way down, we did what any normal person would do – start talking about sex. For the majority of the hike we were the only ones on the trail, so by this point all our inhibitions melted away as we got intimate – in the discussion… not with each other you pervert.

    We were going on and on about past experiences, fantasies, likes, dislikes – totally oblivious to the world around us.  Now, the way were were traversing down the mountain was in the following positioning. I was in front, while Sasha was behind – revealing herself as I was taking it all in.  Wait… stop begin so gross. I meant she was talking and I was listening.

    Just as Sasha was exposing one of the most personal private parts… of her story you sicko… I saw a man coming towards us.

    He was the quintessential white, New England hiker. I am pretty sure he is the type of dude who chops wood to warm his cabin at night, reads Thoreau with a warm glass of whisky on a whicker chair, and the only time he has ever talked about his feelings is when he said “see you later” to his dad on his death bead. This was not a man who seemed to be in touch with his emotions, nor would he ever share any personal details about his life beyond what brand of wool socks keeps you most warm once wet with morning dew.  He was wearing his hiking boots, shorts, plaid shirt, a back pack with water, and sun hat.  He was that guy.

    We made eye contact through the trees, and I wanted to communicate to Sasha that this man was coming – but I didn’t know how…  I just kept walking forward and letting her talk, sort of thinking everything was going to be okay because she must have seen him too right?  The Preppy Hiker kept walking towards us, and could hear everything that was coming out of Sasha’s hole…. in her face you horny toad!

    Sasha: Every time I have been in a situation where people are having sex right in front of me I get super turned on. I just really get off on watching other people fuck.

    Right as Sasha uttered that last word – she looked up and saw the hiker.

    White New England Hiker: Uhhhhh… Don’t mind me….

    That was pretty much the best moment of all of our lives.

    hiker-story-(i)

  • Death On The Farm

    One of the unique advantages of growing up in certain pockets of America is that you have very little exposure to death. For millions of people in the US, the first time they witness mortality is the loss of a grandparent, or maybe a beloved pet. Unlike many parts of the world (and areas ravaged by poverty / violence here) where murder, bombs, war, famine, rampant disease, or starvation are part of a daily existence – there are those in this country who are sheltered from the brutality of untimely death.

    I wonder what it is like for all the children of the planet who have experienced or witnessed multiple violent deaths by the time most American children still can’t wipe their own ass. Does that instill upon them a greater appreciation for life? Or would so much pain make them jaded and discouraged – left wondering what is the point? Does sheltering our children from the anguish of mortality only make death more tragic when they do experience it?

    Living in the country gives The Munch a very quaint childhood. She doesn’t see homelessness, extreme scarcity, or the frayed bodies of dead humans obliterated by drone attacks. Everything around her is seemingly idyllic. As far as The Munch perceives, the world is a benevolent place filled with peace and harmony. Existence is nothing but kittens cuddling on a bed of pussy willows drinking hot chocolate through a vanilla bean straw while humming show tunes and licking clean the eyelids of sleeping babies. She has no concept of the true and brutal reality for most of humanity.

    Although as a parent you want to preserve the innocence of your child, I would be very concerned about the naivety of The Munch’s existence if we didn’t live on a farm. Yet because we are surrounded by wildlife, we witness the viciousness of nature almost every day.

    Just this summer alone, a fox murdered all 16 of our chickens. Didn’t eat them, but tore them apart and left pieces of their physiques littered throughout the lawn. The Munch would turn to me and say, “Look Mom, a chicken feather.” I would turn to see what she was talking about, and Munch would be holding an entire chicken butt – like the whole ass of a chicken – as if it were no thing.

    A week later – a fisher cat eviscerated one of our guinea hens. The Munch and I saw a pile of plumage on the grass, and The Munch’s reaction was “oh dear, one of the guinea hens got killed. Look at all the beautiful feathers.”

    When the baby turkeys come to harvest for the winter holiday season, The Munch will hold them in her hands lovingly while discussing how when they get bigger, her babysitter Lilliana along with her husband Farmer John, will cut all their heads off for Thanksgiving. For Munch all this death is natural and normal. Our cat Omega is like the American Psycho of felines, and most mornings we wake up to a half chewed mouse, or a bird with no head. Munch is totally unfazed and rationalizes this as, “Omega is so silly – she loves eating mice even though we have food for her.”

    I think because we live amongst the cycles of mother Gaia, The Munch is at least accepting of the idea of death. The other day she said she wanted a parrot, and I said we probably couldn’t get one right now because Omega would eat it, or Mona our dog would chase it.

    Munch: Okay. We will wait until Omega and Mona die – then we will get a parrot. I love my cat and dog sooooo much, but they are really old.

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    death-farm-blog-(i)

  • I Wanna Love you like an Animal

    When I used to smoke a lot of pot, I spent an ample amount of time watching animal shows on the Discovery Channel. It became borderline obsessive. I went to the Science Museum, on more than one occasion, to buy a $300 DVD about creatures of the jungle. For many moons I would get disturbingly high, eat cereal, and look into the eyes of these beings of the wild.

    I fantasized about going into the open tundra and documenting yacks in their natural habitats. The feeling would pass after another bong hit. I’ve always had a lot of respect for people who spend their lives in nature, observing the magnificence of animals.

    As humans we often try to find the distinction between the animal kingdom and ourselves. There is a prevailing assumption that while a part of it, we are above it. We have a superiority complex, and tend to consider ourselves civilized in simply because we wipe our own ass and don’t eat vomit. I really don’t think we are.

    When I see a lion hunting a zebra in the Serengeti, it at first seems brutal as teeth tear into flesh, and this massive beast ingests its victim raw. I am like “whoa, that shit is intense lion… settle down because you have blood all over your furry chin and that is freaking me out.” Yet that is nothing compared to genocide. Or war! At least with animal violence the scale is more reasonable as opposed to taking out a couple thousand with a bomb. Animals are pretty damn low-key in contrast.

    We anthropomorphize ourselves when we portray people as the evolved species. By attributing human traits to our human identities we rationalize barbaric behavior – when in reality we are still ruthless animals.

    So on that note… I decided it was a good idea to bring The Munch to the Friendly Farm to pet some goats and pick up baby chicks and shit.
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    July 7, 2014 • 4 years old, Adventures, Musings • Views: 1401

  • March Against Monsanto

    On May 25th a mass protest is being organized against Monsanto.  I do not necessarily believe that protesting alone can change policy in this day and age, yet I do think that it is worth our time to do whatever we can to express our discontent with corporate plutocracy.  If anything it is at least an opportunity to better network with each other.

    We need to be as proactive as possible to an impact on how our food system works.  It is important to organize and educate each other, as well as deeply investigate the companies that are feeding us.  Right now, the best form of activism is being hyper aware of how you spend your money, and not supporting companies that are contaminating the land and their product.

    People are very impassioned when it comes to this issue, and there are many different ways to analyze information.  But no matter what your opinion on GMO’s and pesticides… whether you seem them as problematic or necessary… here are two ideas worth chewing on.

    Do you remember Russia… you know, the country we were at war with for WORLD POWER? Yeah, well they haven’t gone away – even if we did break up their empire.  Recently the president of Russia met with John Kerry and he is pretty pissed.

    “President Putin’s meeting this past week with US Secretary of State John Kerry reveal the Russian leaders “extreme outrage” over the Obama regimes continued protection of global seed and plant bio-genetic giants Syngenta and Monsanto in the face of a growing “bee apocalypse” that the Kremlin warns “will most certainly” lead to world war… At the center of this dispute between Russia and the US, this MNRE report says, is the “undisputed evidence” that a class of neuro-active insecticides chemically related to nicotine, known as neonicotinoids, are destroying our planets bee population, and which if left unchecked could destroy our world’s ability to grow enough food to feed its population.”

    I don’t know about you, but a world war sounds terrifying.  Especially one that is based on corporate greed and a refusal to adapt their business model.  I am not saying Monsanto can’t make money.  Make all the money you want Monsanto.  Have it all.  But maybe not murder the bees while you are doing it?

    I think we all know how important bees are to our food system, and the rest of the world seems pretty concerned that they are all dying.  And if all the bees die what are our options? To get children to pollinate the flowers with their tiny fingers?

    The other thing worth thinking about is that Monsanto impacts the entire world’s food system.  That is too much power for any one company to have over the most precious resource on the planet.  You could have more money than god, but if you are hungry and thirsty you are going to be in a bad mood, and eventually die.  Food is vital.  Our food system needs to be governed by a collective effort, not ruled by a dictatorship.

    There are many things we can argue about when it comes to geopolitical issues, but can’t we all agree that we don’t want to die in a world war, and that eating is important?

    I am inspired by the fact that Monsanto has already been removed from Austria, Bulgaria, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Japan, Luxembourg, Madeira, New Zealand, Peru, South Australia, Russia, France, and Switzerland.  It gives me hope that we can do it here too.

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    May 24, 2013 • 2 years old, Current Events, Eating, Environmental Impact, Health, Musings • Views: 1184

  • Why Don’t You Take Your Bag and Shove It Up Your Ass!

    Hey world.  So this really awesome thing has been happening to me where my vagina bleeds every 2-weeks rather than 4.  It is amazing. I love it sooooooo much! Thanks nature! I don’t want to kick you in the twatt at all!

    In case it isn’t clear, I am in a really shit-tastic mood. So you can imagine how pumped I was to go grocery shopping with The Munch at the stupid organic store, only to realize that I didn’t bring my own eco-friendly bag.  I don’t know if you know this, but needing a bag at the hippy store is about as offensive as taking a shit in the middle of the aisle and then refusing to wipe.  When the cash register lady realized I had the audacity to admit I didn’t have my own $30 hemp bag, she acted as if I was single handedly responsible for destroying the planet with my selfish needs.

    Cashier: “Wait, so you didn’t bring your own bag?”

    Toni: “No I am sorry.  I didn’t plan to go shopping today, but then I realized I had time so….”

    Cashier: “So you don’t leave them in your car?”

    Toni: “Well, I guess the last time I used them, I left them in my house and forgot to bring them back to my car?”

    Cashier: “Well that is what you have to do next time.”

    Toni: Okay… sorry.”

    Cashier: “Yeah, well you should be.

    Yeah I get it lady!! I agree with you…. but I made a fucking mistake! And then of course, as The Munch and I were walking to the car, the stupid hippy paper bag broke and all my groceries fell into the dirt – because a pavement parking lot isn’t organic enough!  It made me feel like the cashier pissed in the bottom of the bag specifically to make it tear on me.  So then I had to shove dirty groceries in my car that was just cleaned as The Munch demanded to eat her muffin on the ride home.

    Toni: “Please Munch… the car just got cleaned… please don’t make crumbs with your muffin.”

    Munch: “But Mamma, it is already all dirty.  See!  See how the groceries are dirty?”

    Toni: “Yeah, I see Munch.  Thanks for pointing that out.”

    The only thing that made any sense to my day was that I would have at least an hour to make voodoo dolls and stab them while The Munch napped.  But of course she didn’t nap because she “wasn’t sleepy” and wanted to show me something downstairs.   That something being a half eaten lollipop she wanted to finish.

    Munch: “I don’t want to sleep.  I want to go down stairs with you.”

    Toni: “Munch, you need to go to sleep.”

    Munch: “Can I lay on your tummy? I want to lay on your tummy.”

    Toni: “Fine…”

    Munch: “Mamma tell me a story.”

    Toni: “Once upon a time there was a little girl named Adelia and her Mamma really wanted her to go to sleep.”

    Toni: “Ummmm yeah… tell me another story instead.”

    LOVE YOU! I am going to go find someone to karate chop.

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