Enough of Mom Blog. I mean, we get it, right? It's sad.

I went home to Ohioland for five days and was so happy to be back in Chicago that I felt guilty about it. It's not Ohio's fault. It's me! It's not you, Ohio! It's me! The thing is: if I don't start realizing how much people like me, I'm going to end up a nutball. So I'm working on it. That was a nice life lesson. Also: I finally sustained a (minor) fireworks injury. It is about f'n time. Piece of some poorly constructed "Super Rocket" burrowed into my foot. Yes, I was drunk. No, my cousins--all, what, 14,000 of them?--did not intervene on my behalf. Sure, they yelled "Run away! Run!!!" but I was drunk. What was extra fun is that my role as primary fireworks lighter was passed to the much more physically fit Jake, and he can drive a car! He can also make bad choices and have friends who are in jail. I remember when he was a chubby baby and Little Sister and I would fight over who got to hold him. Now he's sick buff and somehow an Irish Dancer, Gangster, and Super Funny Dude! Probably because I held him more than Little Sister held him. She would have made him a giant fashionable dork. Instead, the renegade cool rubbed off.

Seriously, though: my cousins are magic.