The warble is official. I had hoped against hope he was a squatter. But it turns out this tic has signed a year long lease and is not going to switch apartments any time soon.
Even his acupuncture with the lovely Martina today could not evict him.
On a good note, Stink rarely eye rolls anymore, thanks to his needle sessions.
On a bad note, it’s not curing his vocals.
Either it’s because we need to go back to two times a week.
Or it’s the Wii.
Or it’s just plain because he has T.S..
I won’t lie. I’m fried today. But on the other hand, I’m really trying to see the good in all this. It’s mild. It could be worse. I find myself clinging to faith and seeing this as a test. God has plans for me. He has plans for you. So my kid tics sometimes. So your kid tics sometimes. Guess what, they are amazing people, and so are you.
That’s all I have tonight.
Except for this: When you’re having sex with your husband, right before crucial moments, if he doesn’t want to stop, it can be really fun to have him quote lyrics to really bad 80’s songs. Because really, after a long day of ticking and obessing about if your kid is going to Tarzan his way into a college scholarship, do you really feel like having sex?
If not, but you decide it’s good for the marriage and you remember something about Christian scripture about submitting to your husband – even though mine is an Atheist nerd who I truly feel would be happier humping his hand made light up L.E.D. sculpture – shouldn’t you have a good laugh?
My shining moment happened when I had him scream “Every body… have fun…TONIGHT! EVERYBODY WANG CHUNG TONIGHT!”
I really couldn’t help myself. You should try it.