TIME TO GET A LIBRARY CARD

I was reading in the new US Weekly that Angelina Jolie told Maddox the following about having a baby...

"I had all my ultrasound pictures and showed him ...I said, "These are from inside Mommy's belly. And look..it's growing a leg!" As if that wasn't enough she goes on to tell Maddox, "Mommy didn't carry you in her belly. This really nice Cambodian woman carried you in her belly..."

Ok...

A.) When she says 'THESE are in mommy's belly" does poor Maddox think several children live inside his mother's belly?

B.) Don't tell your kid anything inside you is growing a leg. It's just cruel and strange.

C.) When Mommy Jolie speaks of "THIS nice Cambodian woman" does it not sound like someone randomly she met in a spa? Someone doing her nails? Any deeper connection there perhaps?

D.) And when she mentions Cambodia in general...does Maddox not shake his head and think, "Man...that sure sounds far from Hollywood Blvd."

DEEP THOUGHTS

Last night I dreamed that I had fungus growing on top of my forehead. That is creepy and strange. I have never had that dream before yet it was so vivid and crazy and real. Here is what the dream analysis people say,

"Fungus: Observing fungus on anything is a warning that you have hostile competition, which you can overcome if you just refuse to be intimidated."

I know what they speak of. I'm deep like that.

TIME FOR MEDS

It is 12:35pm at night. 4 out of 6 days of rain and cold weather in Miami. Finally home and still outraged by a 5.5 hour delay in the Miami airport. E flew home on different airline (mine was a work ticket) that got him home in time for a beer and some super bowl watching. Jealous. In my 5.5 hours of hell I purchased and read every magazine known to man including stupid dumb polls like, "People that think Katie Homes isn't really pregnant - 23%" - WHAT? Read articles about Reese Witherspoon that make her appear so happy and normal and married with 2 kids doing major movies and hardly any stress. WHAT? I sit in seat 33G on the way back out of 36 seats. Alone. Tired. Bad skin and crazy hair. Pits smell. 45 minutes to 'deplane'. No ATMs in site. Starving. Escalators and elevators and steps and long hallways and more escalators and elevators and steps and long hallways - how the hell to get out of the airport? Suitcase full of dirty laundry. Nasty mean emails to deal with when I return home. Cold. Already grinding my teeth and shoulders up to ears in stress and covered in cat hair. Mean to husband for no reason. This is not healthy. Why am I living like this?

And then Becky writes this about LOVE. My first true laugh in what seems like days.