Blech

I am so obviously avoiding drinking these damned herbs. Yuck. Why couldn't I just have a one-track, Westernized ideal of health and happiness? A few synthetic hormones, Bush as president, and all would be right with my world. But noooo...
Today, on the way to the zoo, the Boy said, "You know, my head is full of ants. They handle all the words. When I say a name like 'stupid' or 'butt-head', they take the word and put it in the cutter-upper, and it comes out another name, like 'sweetie-pie', which is much nicer. Then they put the words in a pile, until they're all used up. Then of course they get some food, and some drink, because that's a lot of hard work."
The mind of a 5-year old. Those ants must be working overtime.