life and puppies

Semi-funny story. When AO & I put in the offer on this place we now live, I had no idea that the train ran through our backyard. I have no excuse for not knowing: this isn’t a foreign town to me; I’m capable of reading maps (some would say I’m obsessed with them); and I semi-got that the reason our well-endowed house was priced so cheaply was because of location. I just wrongly concentrated solely on its front-facing problems, i.e. East Wash. Boo.

But ohmigawd, there’s a train, too. But I’ve come to see what others may view as a downside is something, well, if not charming, at least memorable.

I’ve come to love the trains, which come largely in the wee hours. Is that weird? I know that they’re so loud and make such different noises than the street sounds on the street side of life. But I find them so oddly comforting, even when they’re acerbic.

So, I’d say I’d move away from this damn car-infested street any day of the week, but I want a train in my backyard.

Last night Molly was being a total butthead about going to sleep. The final incident involved her coughing loudly and seemingly seriously. So, I went into her room and glared at her.

I said, ‘WTF?!’

Jk. I said, ‘Are you ok?’ And she said, ‘My throat hurts.’ I suggested she drink some water. She gasped, ‘I can’t!’ She then, whispering-yelling, told me that she could hardly talk and was in dire straits. I said, ‘Molly, you are the biggest drama queen.’

She said, ‘No Mommy, I’m not. Babies are.’