Papa B and me also know everyone else's beeswax. Nicknames- which we've probably given, their relationship status, or if they have anything unusual protruding from their body. I guess we look interested. And really who doesn't like a gross medical story? But that may be more my Momma. People who have gossip, love sharing it with us, and even though I do love a good chin wag-I forget most of the secrets I'm told as soon as they're told to me. Cuz for the most part they aren't that juicy a secret to begin with. Except that thing oh, with the Ewww yeah- that was juicy.*insert dreamy eye roll.
My Papa and I are simpatico. Same strange tan lines and deadly baby blues. He gets my jokes- the first time- no explanation. And it helps me to have a strong voice on my side especially since some of the voices in my head put up such a fight. I know he's proud of me. I've almost bankrupted him because he thinks I am talented and wants to support me -literally- in all my endeavours. Which reminds me Papa B, can I borrow $500 bucks?*wink- half kidding. But Papa B, the very best thing about you is that you gave me the creative flu. Symptoms include verbal diarrhea and a sensitive gag reflex with nil filter. I hope it's contagious- cuz Hubby and I would be lucky to have a mini Papa B someday-well, mostly lucky.