Despite the first wave of rains, the next few days are going to be clear and warm. Nights will be almost-cold, of course, because we’ve turned the corner into autumn, but they’re saying at least one day this week will be almost 80F.
Sheesh. Anyway, yesterday was a Good Writing Day, which helps. I haven’t had one of the better ones in a little while; mostly it’s felt like pulling picky princess teeth. I need to get Kaia out of that goddamn city and over that harpy-laden mountain pass Redfist calls it the Demon’s Asshole, which is hilarious is Skaialan because of the word endings but not so much in G’mai, and pretty impossible not to snigger at in tradetongue. Apparently elves like butt jokes just as much as the rest of us.
This morning also brought me two things: tripping over a perfectly flat and innocent piece of carpet, and some teenage surliness from the Little Prince. Who is not so little anymore–he’s growing like a weed, and experimenting with Teen Sulks and pouty lips. Fortunately, I am imperturbable as only mother who has dealt with other teenagers can be. If he wants to put himself in a blue funk, fine. I’m not going to jolly him out of it. He can learn to express himself in more productive ways to get what he wants.
Really, though, I’m lucky. There are no screaming matches at home. There have never been with the Princess either. I don’t see the point of them, really, and the Princess is baffled by other kids talking about fights with their parents. There’s really nothing to fight over. So, yeah, that’s fifty percent of my children navigated through the hormonal storms, and the other fifty percent just starting. It’s going to be fun.
Now it’s time for a run, then I come back home and try to convince Kaia and her crew to lay off the butt jokes and start with the killing.
…my job is still the BEST job.