“The only people I know from Sweden are ABBA and Ace of Base. Ace of Base seems like the obvious choice for weapons inspection: they saw the sign.” – marseverlasting
If you thought my room was chaotic before, then you’ve never seen it during a baby storm. I’m surprised at how many basic coloured chunks of plastic it’s possible to find in my room. There’s building blocks, a lite-brite, and apparently a bazillion markers. My floor is a mine-field of markers, though for some reason she very carefully put every unused lite-brite peg back in the container and tightly closed the lid. It was mysterious. I feel my brain becoming as tangled as old christmas lights when I try to peer inside her brain. Somehow she’s not half as sweet to understand as Sam was in Toronto. I would have thought having a vocabulary, no matter how simple, would inbue the body with more personality, but I seem to be wrong. Naomi calls me mummy. It makes me uncomfortable. The thought of having one of these of my own sets my heart cold. I’m too young for this.