Passing Fireworks

My parents were here yesterday. My mom finally got to visit us and kept on threatening not to go back home. Anyway, it was really nice to finally have her over. She's itching to clean up the place and fix Marguerite's room up. Yeah, the place is kind of grungy, lol. I keep on saying that I don't want to have a helper, but the thing is, I'm so used to having one that I always think somebody's going to take care of the mess and dirt for me when I don't actually have anybody. It is always with a jolt that I realize that the person to do any proper cleaning around here is me. Oh man, I'm constitutionally not up to the task. I sneeze my brains out just changing sheets. I need me some hardcore training and breaking in.

Btw, Marguerite has picked up something from an unknown source. She sometimes tells me, "Thank you, Mother." She definitely didn't get it from me.

Also, that girl can spend the day just messing with art materials. Sometimes, she goes up to me and say-cum-signs "I need a box of crayons." Yay, Signing Time.

Oh, btw, Marguerite has a euphemism for "fart". She audibly passed gas the other night, so I asked her, "Did you fart?" She turned an innocent face to me and said, "It's fireworks."

One other thing. I've been tripping and watching Bon Jovi on YouTube. Now I've never been a fan of Bon Jovi although I do enjoy listening to some of their songs (and I also had a borderline crush on Richie Sambora, hehe) and that's why I was watching Livin' on a Prayer and You Give Love a Bad Name (1995 London concert). Anyway, Marguerite might be turning into a fan. Oh noes!!! She tells me, "Let's Watch Bon Jovi on YouTube" and she gets her mic and sings along or she gets ribbons and dances to it. Sigh. It's okay. If you think about it, Bon Jovi kind of sounds like Mozart. Yeah, no they don't. Oh well.