We had lunch on the outdoor patio at Lui Lui's today, and the kid's were throwing bits of bread to these adorable, (fat) little birds that would come within inches of them. Ira said "Oh, maybe they're thirsty now..." Before I knew what he was doing, he'd sucked up a mouthful of water and spit it out all over the place. I had no idea he had such impressive spitting range, nor did I realize the sheer AMOUNT of water he could hold in those cheeks, but I got the distinct impression we were not very popular after that. The people closest to us...I think they thought he had projectile vomited and left swiftly. Other people just looked disturbed or disgusted, depending on whether or not they themselves had small children.
(I cut and pasted that last paragraph out of an e-mail to a friend, so excuse if you read this twice, friend...since I'm too lazy and writer-blocked to think up anything else at the moment. I'm having this issue where I can't think of what to write unless I'm writing it TO someone. Ya'll, in general don't count.)
Anyway, I keep just writing about the kids because A.) Um, they're my kids. B.) There's nothing else to write about. C.) Correction: there's SO much to write about, but everything in my head is about somebody or something that I shouldn't be sharing, I guess. Therefore, no writing fodder available at present. Dang, dang, double dang! I haven't the imagination lately to work around that stuff. So, blocked I am.
