The Real Reason We’re Here

When I was asked to help babysit this slice of heaven in the blogonetisphere, I was told that I should include stories that would enlighten and inspire its readers. You know… stuff like boogers, butts and buggery?

Sadly, I have no such tales of philosophical import or moral significance. My life is an endless parade of hurricane preparations. Thus, the only thing I can come up with is a poem by my daughter. She was 12 at the time it was written, so I apologize if it is a bit too mature for this place.

Toenail Soup
Awesome
Yummy
Terrific
Faboo…
This is not toenail stew.

4 Comments

  1. She’s got a talent! And it reminds me of a kid I had in my group at summer camp. I was fifteen, she was 8. If you asked her to do something she wasn’t interested in doing she’d say “Tough toenails, I don’t want to!” She was my favorite.

  2. *Gets confused with the reversal of date and month and thinks the last time you posted was 9th February 2004 (in ENGLAND 09/02/2004) rather than 2nd of Sept (02/09/2004)*

    Haven’t been here for a v. long time
    nice to catch up

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