4:30 p.m.||||2004-06-22

-
Josh wants me to know, as well as cars go "VROOMVROOOOMMMMMM!" that they "gots wheels on it!" Probably fifty times a day he reminds me. The other day a tire blew out on my car and it scared him half to death. As he and I then sat on the steps of the ghetto scaryout watching dave fix it, Josh said "daddy fitz it" over and over and "daddy hewo" (after I said isn't he our hero?) Tire "go boom" and daddy fitz it.

It never sounds as good to you as it does to me when he says these things. I mean, part of it is knowing the little man, and all the bazillions of neurons that had to grow to get him to the point of talking. And then hearing it. His little. Tiny. Voice. So cute.

Anyway. I hate where I am right now, in this place, with mean people. (Job) (Ugh) I jsut pissesd someone off when I asked who was calling before I set about paging and she refused to tell me, and I said they prefer that I ask, and she got snotty and bitched and hung up on me. It's not my fault that half the world is tiny asshole bullies who freak out when they aren't catered to. HOly fuck.