{Zinnias from my walk with the babes today.}

So this is a post about what a big clueless dork I am.

As you may recall, I wrote a post asking for questions over a month ago. I made the comments on that post private, because other people did and it made sense {for reasons explained in the previously referenced post}. Since I have Blogger send me e-mails whenever someone comments on ye olde blog, I waited for the questions to pour into my inbox. None came, and none came, and none came, and I felt a little forlorn. No questions, not even out of courtesy or friendship or pity?

But no, not one. I contemplated whether I should call myself out for being pretentious enough to assume that people wonder anything about my life, or whether I should bluff it and answer pretend-asked questions {pathetic, I know}. Finally, last night as I was blogging because I just couldn't hold back the words that were in me, I had almost decided to pretend like the whole FAQ post hadn't happened at all. And then I saw it -- I had unmoderated comments waiting for my approval. I had gotten questions, and, dense as I occasionally prove myself to be, hadn't realized.

I apologize. I'm now getting my answers to your questions ready, and I'll start posting them next week. First up: the story behind Max's first name.

P.S. You better believe Christian made fun of me last night. "You clown," I believe, were his exact words. Christian also makes fun of me whenever I say "wherps," a deliberate mispronunciation of "whoops."

UPDATE: Christian wanted me to clarify that he's the one who came up with "wherps" -- it's not funny to make fun of the way someone pronounces something, but it is funny to make fun of someone who pronounces something the same way you pronounce it and act like they're crazy for doing so. When I say "wherps!" Christian is always quick to reply, "No. Nobody says that."

1 comment:

  1. Oh good! I'm glad you got my comment. I know more than just me read this blog! LOL!