Monday, August 21, 2006
Conflicted
I have learned what it means to be conflicted. The 'rents gave me a popsicle and it was delish - I wonder why prune juice popsicles aren't mass-marketed?? (Note to self - contact the Flav-O-Ice folks about this.) I loved the taste, but popsicle was so cold that it hurt my tender gums. I'd cry when I ate the popsicle because it was too cold and I'd cry when the popsicle was taken away. It made me miserable, and yet I couldn't control my craving for more. Daddy explained that this was "inner conflict" and that I could expect much more of this throughout my life. Gee, thanks.
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2 comments:
You are SOOO cute! Although my daddy keeps telling me that I'm never going to date-- EVER-- we might have to work something out. One of us needs to get on a "metal bird that flies" soon so we can play. Love, Rachel
P.S. My daddy also says that a prune juice popsicle is child abuse. You might want to call someone about that.
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