OK, enough. Enough worrying, stressing, fearing: I am done. It is not helping anyone. And it is fatiguing (which is also hard to spell this time of night!).

Instead, we will talk about the book Chestnut was reading and reading and reading until the cat (inadvertantly—we hope) vomited on it:

This book arrived in our mailbox (probably about a year ago? Bad reviewer, very tardy!). It came with a winsome letter, which I reacted poorly to (as I do to most winsome things). The letter explained that it was a book like no other, a book you weren't necessarily supposed to read straight through, but rather pick up and put down at will, opening to any page and seeing what was there. It's hard to describe: a sort of collection of silly rhymes, collective children's wit & wisdom, and weird little quizzes. So I shoved it away on a shelf and went somewhere to continue my griping bad mood for a few months.

Until Chestnut found it.

Chestnut LOVES it. She finds it altogether edifying. Every weird little poem and absurd story delights her. It's not quite right, but it's close to say that it's sort of the ultimate kid's bathroom book, full of weird little things they can ready quickly (and easily), which they will then force you to listen to over and over. And what's nice is that you won't really mind (even if you're feeling mean and irritable) because there is something inarguably sweet about the whole thing.

So if you're looking for something that will just generally make you feel better about things, even if it's very silly (or because it's very silly) and you have a very pleasant 6 to 9 year old somewhere around the house, you should find this and bring it home and make a little place for it. It will make things better.

Note: the cat vomit has been cleaned away, book is as good as new. The vet is recommending Prozac for the cat, which apparently comes in tuna or liver flavors (who knew?)