I think I should follow up on yesterday’s serious/sad post with a goofy one about my grown daughters. In fact, when DD1 read yesterday’s post this incident is what she thought I was talking about. One night about 3 years ago, both of them were doing some serious PMSing and were so cranky I was ready to hide in my bedroom. So of course, they got into an argument (about which neither DD2 nor I can remember), and continued until it escalated into a huge fight. The next thing I knew both of my grown women daughters were fist fighting in the hall way, and while you are picturing this, remember that they are both 5’6” tall and that I am 5’1/2”. My mouth dropped open and I was so angry furious I was shaking. Since my screaming didn’t stop it, I waded into the middle of them, grabbed them both by the hair and knocked their heads together a couple of times (and into the wall for good measure, I couldn’t get enough leverage so I was frustrated). It was the funniest thing, I was shocked that I did it and so was my husband. Of course if we had not been standing on a bamboo floor, a pitcher of cold water would have worked better.
No knitting last night, the silly wrist is not in the mood. :-)
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