Why Hello, Satan
I spend a lot of my time worrying about Ms. P and her sleeping habits, or lack thereof. She is not a great sleeper, and I am a big believer in the power of napping, so I can get a little anxious at times when she hasn't slept enough. Because when she doesn't, it is a big can of fussy that gets opened up on everyone for the rest of the day. So at one point I wanted to try and put her to sleep, but the gardener across the street was making a lot of noise, and it was too hot to close the window. I kept hovering around the window, trying to gauge when he would be finished. I kept muttering rude things under my breath, mostly for him to hurry up already. Hubba-hubba heard me and said, "Why are you telling that poor one-armed gardener to hurry up? He's going as fast as he can!" And because Hubba-hubba is often quite the bullshitter, I told him to shut up, that there was NO SUCH THING as a one-armed gardener. "Oh yeah," he said, "Just go ahead and look