as i read the first few lines of the previous post, i thought, ah, this one's written by ruth (sometimes it's obvious right away, and sometimes i have to read a few lines) so you can imagine how pleasantly surprised and proud i was to see that YOU, myriam wrote it. you wrote all about your beautifully colored beet poop, and with pride and joy. you write a gooood story, mj. i was right there with you. just as i can still vividly visualize the beads of sweat forming on ruth's upper lip as the panic swiftly set in her face when max was having a melt down in the quaint and cozy wine store filled with people and i wouldn't come rescue her because i didn't want her to pay for the wine... i can vividly visualize the expressions on your face and the emotions that filled your body...i can picture you relaxed and proud and happy, eager to share with us that you are not only proud of your poop, but already writing your poop post in your head...and then i can clearly see the panic set in fast, the whirlwind of chaos that quickly followed and the toilet overflowed, as kerry was abruptly awoken from a sound slumber, the horror, the horror, the horror. so great. it's so fucking great. i love it.
what i WAS going to write about was love. i was going to write this post with pictures because they make me smile with gratitude every time i see them!
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