on the down low

I’ve been in one of my “low” periods the past couple of days. Ever since talking to the Peace Corps dentist, if I try and pinpoint it. I’m feeling better now, and finally forced myself to tackle my inbox. I’m sorry if I’m a bit late replying to a message you sent, but I promise to respond soon.

Things to cheer me up? Maura sent me a really sweet and considerate “thank you” package. Including her papier-mâché ducky, to guard my stash. I’ll post pix once I find the bloody AA batteries that the males have hidden from me (they have, I swear it’s so, no matter how much they deny it).

Also, my sister sent me this picture (well, a batch of them) of baby T:

Who is still THE CUTEST baby on the face of this planet.

And, no, I am not biased. The picture clearly speaks for itself. Duh.

Bad news? Well, no, not bad. Just exhausting, really. I feel like sharing this because of CrazyAuntPurl’s post. I was dragged from my room last night by my little brother (who now towers over me, has a beard and grer hair) whilst he had the mental breakdown of the century. He had not only stopped up the toilet but it was overflowing (oh, yes, having an autistic sibling is a joy to behold) and a small lake was forming in the bathroom – and slowly spreading towards our oak floors.

Joy.

He (being OCD about cleanliness) was freaking out worse than I do when faced with spiders. So, I sent him off to find some mythical rags (which were in the wash, not under the sink, snerk) whilst I got to cleaning up the mess. I bleached every single surface I could and got the bathroom clean and dry and smelling normal again and everything.

I made him shower, I showered, and all was declared good and fine. He retreated to his room.

But, hahaha (snerk), he still won’t use that bathroom now. Won’t even step in there.

Fabulous. He’d taken to using Mum’s and Dad’s, but they’re back from Olympia now. I told Dad about this and he just sighed.

Yep. That’s my response, too.

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