Their muscles are tense, taut—arms out for balance—legs flailing—recovery! The kids and I are watching some dudes practice slack rope walking—an amazing feat. Looks like so much fun, too. And these guys are good, and getting better. And better. Clearly, it’s time to challenge them.

Flora: Wow, that really needs a lot of concentration, eh?

Jane: Yup.

Flora: I wonder what would happen if a hot girl walked by. Mom! Take off your jacket and go walk past them!

Cinder: I don’t think Mom qualifies as a hot girl.

Flora: Mom is so a hot girl!

Tightrope walking in park (Photo credit: Ivan Mlinaric)

Dear Cinder, if, at the will reading and funeral, why Flora inherited X, Y and Z while you’re just stuck with your share of my debts, remember this moment. Love, Mom.

On the plus side: he probably won’t marry his mother, eh? So that’s good. Cause we all know how that ends…

Dear Flora, I know mothers aren’t supposed to have favourite children. But between you, me and the blogosphere, in this moment, you’re my favourite. Hands down. xoxoxoxo, Mom.

PS I’m taking up slack rope walking this summer. And not just so I can be distracted by the hot boys.

PPS Best funny from my blog inbox this week: Jen at Something Clever 2.0 says  The world is imperfect. But together, I think we can fix it. Spoiler alert: “Mechanical uterus. You know you want one.”

PPPS Most poignant post in my blog inbox this week: Kimberly at All Work and No Play Makes Mama Go Something Something takes mental illness out of the closet in Hide.

PPPPS Do any of you read all the way to the bottom of my posts? The ignorant slut wants to know…