Ducky Diaries: Beautiful Preciousness

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Beautiful Preciousness

So the last time I left you guys I was really having a rough time after finding out Bear's M.R.I. results.  And then I got to do a really awesome give away on this here blog. Which I was thankful for because it allotted me a little more time to deal with my feelings and not have to talk about "it" for a little awhile. 

But I'm still here, still grieving, feeling angry, and just really taking things one day at a time.  Which is why today I want to write about something that makes me incredibly happy. Silly happy. Because truthfully, I need it.

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There is only a handful of things on this earth that can make me squeal with pure delight...

: Baby bunnies, kittens, fat bellied toothless puppies, sneezing baby pandas, and fat babies, all fat babies. :

 I love fat babies in the same way that I love chocolate ice cream or  deliciously seasoned oven roasted chicken, or pink moscato , meaning I want nothing more than to ingest them.  So yes, hide your fat child from me.....  Because try as I might, I cannot resist putting a fat roll between my teeth and pretending to chew on said fat roll while making weird growling and 'num, num, num' noises.  And since it would obviously not be okay to actually chew on a child you should probably keep yours away from me.

However, more than I love all that, I LOVE fat baby artwork.  I cannot help it.  I could cry just looking at it's preciousness. I have to save it all.  Literally.  I've gone into the trash to save my precious after D.I.C. has thrown it away.  It's bad.  My addiction needs an intervention.

I've got fat baby artwork hanging all over our home.  It looks so tacky, but it is beautiful to me.  Similarly in the way that R-Pat glimmered in the sunlight as a vampire.

 Fat baby artwork is diamond level preciousness. 

I  am always apologizing to D.I.C. for my insane need to hoard child doodles.  One day I'm convinced we'll die in our cat hair covered recliners while suffocating in 40 year old children scribbles.

So to finalize my rant and stop drooling on my keyboard I'd like to apologize to the hubs.

Dear D.I.C.,  I'm sorry that my love for every scrap of colored cardboard has made our house look like an eclectic crazy flea market.  I know you still love me though.  It's probably mostly because I am an excellent cook, but still, you love me.  And for what it's worth, you need to cut off an addicts source.  You should call the preschool, really, none of this is my fault.

And also when you ask me this question, " What is it?". 

The only answer is, "Beautiful preciousness". 







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