Dita Parker

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Twelfth night

Hear that? Music to my ears, sweetie darlings, the sound of silence. That's the sound of a house and hostess all partied out. It was fun, it really was, but like all good things, it had to come to an end, and between you and me, or me, myself and I, not a day too soon. Don't get me wrong. The only reason for my radio silence was I've been practicing what I preached before the holidays. I've been one serious mom, wife, sister, daughter, daughter-in-law, aunt... 

I know too much of a good thing is supposed to be wonderful, but I find it kind of exhausting, too. It's a fine line, sometimes a very short and what-no-really-only-half-a-day-gone-by-I-thought-they'd-be-heading-out-right-about-now line, between "How sweet to see you all again" and "No, you can't pee on the palm tree even if you really really have to go," you know.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. If you need something, you can get it yourself.

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