fire_of_avalon

So not long ago I used to be an internet person and did internet person things (internet person:hoodrat::internet person things:hoodrat things imho) but then I didn't have time for that anymore because children.

See children are my life now. Not children of mine, mind you, my sister's children. So instead of being an internet person I basically am a slave. I am a slave with teeny, tiny masters who laugh at my misfortunes, who fly off the handle and meltdown based on the fact they have trouble expressing what they would have me do. I cook for them. I clean for them. I clean their parts for them. I sustain grievous injuries from battles with outsize pumpkins so they can gaze upon crudely carved visages of nightmare monsters and subsequently burst into tears and order me to remove the twenty pound orange gourds from sight (but later demand they be returned and when they are, the masters embrace the monsters like old friends.)

But sometimes the masters give you an approving smile, or comment on the "yummy supper" you've prepared for them (which is really just frozen fish with ketchup) or will even twist their tiny, sticky hands in your hair and pull you towards them for a hug. And it is good. The rewards you reap for the lives you've left behind are not always proportional to their cost, they are not always obvious or easy to obtain, but they can be found.

But if you would ever like to send me on a solo, all expenses paid vacation for, let's say, two weeks, to a place free from Legos in my feet and eggs in my hair, I'd take it.