Nerves Gone Wild!

big boobs! lots of drinks!
drinks of Ozarka, that is
a pregnant spring break

Remember when Spring Break was something you looked forward to? I was never a big party gal, but I still liked a week off to gallivant around with my friends.

Now Spring Break means no preschool, no dance class, no t-ball, no friends in town (they’re all on vacation), and the friends that are in town can’t play because their older siblings are home from school and too old to join a playdate with three-year-olds.

Now Spring Break means going a little crazy and not in a fun way. Spring Break is no longer hott. It’s just hot. And manic. And grumpy. And full of too much TV and empty playgrounds and SXSW envy (though I did get to go to the Interactive/Film Exhibition a few days ago and that was swell).

Yet the wee one and I soldier on. We play with the trains at the Big Box Bookstore, we make banana milkshakes, we watch Wallace & Gromit over and over (though The Wrong Trousers is making the wee one cry because he feels so sad for Gromit. I think we may have to retire this DVD for a while), and we make endless and pointless phone calls to aunts and uncles and grandmas and grandpas and daddy at work. We play t-ball in the backyard, we talk about making cookies but we don’t because mommy is too lazy to clean the kitchen afterwards, and we watch more TV.

It’s not a bad time, just not a stimulating time. I mean how can I compare to the Zoo Guy who came to preschool last week with snakes and a hedgehog? I am so out-cooled by school it’s embarrassing.

Anyway, I miss old Spring Break. But new Spring Break isn’t as bad as I claim. At least my bare breasts won’t show up on any DVDs in the next few months. And that is something I can be proud of. (That sounds like an "Objective" part of a resume, doesn’t it? "I strive to never have my breasts show up on a DVD… and to be able to write great copy.")

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