|I crown you Audrey's new mother.|
It so happens that Aimee has two special needs children already, so as a potential future guardian for Audrey she has her pluses and minuses. On one hand, her plate is already kinda full; on the other, she's a well-lubricated (*makes bottoms-up drunky thumb gesture*) special needs machine. What's one more IEP kid in the house...there's got to be some kind of economies of scale, right?
It does bring up the sticky question that I try not to think about but actually do think about almost every second of every day of who will take care of Audrey when I'm gone. I don't think that she can really smoosh me to death with her feet, but there are lots of satellites falling out of the sky lately and what if one has my name on it? And what if I happen to be standing next to my husband at the time and it picks up a spare?
Actually that's pretty unlikely because my husband and I operate very much like the President and Vice-President in that we are never in the same place at the same time just for this very reason. Yes. That is exactly why we are never in the same place at the same time. Uh huh.
I'm constantly running down the list in my head. Audrey has no siblings, so that's out. I have two sisters, but they're both older than me. Audrey has two cousins that are teenagers now, but, assuming I can hang on for a few more years, they could be candidates later in life. They're good girls now, but...and this is where my imagination runs wild...how do I know that after I'm gone they won't develop some kind of atrocious taste in men and end up marrying Diddly Pete here?
Seems the only good answer is living forever. Which means I should probably put down this bag of Halloween candy and whip myself up a turnip-carrot-kale-beet-garlic-celery-cucumber-ginger juice. This one's for you, Audrey.