(from Where the wild things are, about Max's dinner at the end of all his adventures.)
So remember how yesterday I said that things were looking up? Well, I thought they were. They are not. So if you are a pray-er, please pray for me, that I could not worry, but in faith, look up for my strength, and for healing. (The great thing about prayer is that God knows all the details.)
Last night was the first time I cried in his presence. I couldn't stop sniffling. Finally, I sent him home to get some sleep. Sweet man, first he changed the burned out light bulb in my stairwell. Which, silly as it was, did make me feel safer.
After our nutritious dinner from KFC, we watched "The Big Lebowski" which he prefaced by saying, "This is not a chick flick." I don't know why he said that (hee hee!). It was very funny.
I think a good rule of thumb with movies for me: a chick flick is a movie that I can watch alone. A non-chick flick is one that I need another person (or a theatre full of folks) there, to get the jokes and make funny faces at. Because if I had watched this by myself and not on the high recommend of Max (he owns the VHS, that's a pretty high recommend), I might not have thought it was funny.
7 hours ago