It goes a little like this y'all. And it ain't pretty. Mom gets migraine. Draws silly pictures like she's channeling some kinda mythic Neanderthal cave child with clay crayons from Lauscaux! o.k. Then she stops drawing and screams (grabbing her hair as if gonna pull it all out at once) "Incoming! Need PAIN MEDS!" then she starts shrieking until they kick in and then she pulls out her fancy books, which are quite lovely. Then she shows us her "art" and then shows us how the books explain why she is such a genius. By this time we know the meds have really kicked in 'cuz she be droolin' on her fancy-schmancy books 'splainin' to us: "seeeee, i gonna use this pain for good:
me draw pretty one day!" before FACEPLANTIN'
SMACK INTO THE ICEPACKS lined up on her bed. The books fall off the bed and we gets to thinking...
"If the fancy-schmancy books are within nibblin' distance...uh, oh, nothing!" that would be wrong.
"If her 'drawings' are within nibblin' distance...uh, oh, nothing!" (but that would be
less wrong - possibly even Righteous!)
OOPS, GOTTA GO, she wakin' up: RAJ MAHAL WUZ
NEVAH HERE!
