Momnesia

Letter of Truth: Part "Sorry!"

It has been pointed out to me that I have a friend known as Snarkalufagus. He appears whenever people are not looking, strikes, and then sinks back into the night. It's odd. I never see him, but A.C. chides, "Bad Stacey is back!" And then I look at see that my hair is steaming and my chest is heaving and while many, many people actually enjoy the latter, it is no fun to have people beat me about the head with towels and lightweight Spring jackets. Or, in T.G.'s case, cargo pants. Because he seems to have plenty of extras.

There! Did you see that? Snarkalufagus. A big, lumbering elephantine smartass that tromps on the singing cartoon forest animals that normally bedeck my feet. (sigh) It's the reason my editor looks at me askance during editorial meetings. It's the reason my husband spends a lot of time sitting outside with a book. It's the reason Emerson, at the age of two, has already learned to cock her head to the side, put her hands on her hips, and snap: "Wha - eber."

My mother must be so proud.