I was stung in the armpit by a bee while cycling on Tuesday. Where is the dignity?
My 6-year-old (Mr. Future-President) came into the kitchen after his bath Tuesday night and announced, "It's the Ultimate Me!" And I muttered to my husband, "Is there any other kind?" If I had his confidence, grade school would have been a hell of a lot easier.
Michael and Lincoln are not forgotten. Future chapters of "Always" are kicking my butt, and Supernatural is flowing, so... I bow to the deluge of Sam and Dean and keep plotting away on PB.
Hope all my f-list friends having finals this week did well! And don't forget us over the summer. ;)