When I asked my son what term I should be using now instead of Native American he said that tribal affiliation is preferred. I have no idea if this is correct.
Meanwhile, I've had one of those days where if I'd dropped my toast, I would have dropped it buttered-side down. I was just off. When I went out for my walk this morning, I switched into story-telling mode, but halfway through my narrative I realized there was no there there. No punchline.
Gah. Not a fan of days like these!
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2 comments:
Let's just point at things and make fervent noises. And frankly, when you say "I've had one of those days where if I'd dropped my toast, I would have dropped it buttered-side down," all I hear is "toast" and "butter," and maybe, just maybe, toast is what would cure all that ails me. Come to my house--I will toast your toast and butter it for you, and then you can tell me every story whether full of points or a little points-lite. I freaking don't care, because (a) it would be you telling the story, and (b) there would be toast. With butter, which, we can all agree, is a bonus in these dark times.
And then Ann was able to write a blog post out of thin air, like magic. And it made her readers happy. Then they all ate toast. The end.
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