Oh little blog o' mine.
I have stories for you.
Picture books, to be more accurate.
But it will take some time before I can pixelate the pages with our travels because we aren't finished. Not even close. Mom and Dad are here for another week, and I don't want them to go. I might steal their passports so they can't leave the Zurich airport, except they'll probably figure out it was me who took them as I'm terrible at keeping it a secret when I steal passports.
Not that I've ever stolen a passport mind you, but I just have a feeling that if I did, I'd confess.
A guilty conscious gives me ulcers.
And I can't sleep.
When a person can't sleep, it's recommend one should drink warm milk; the one and only time in my life I've tried to drink warm milk, I actually nuked it to scalding and then burned my mouth. Needless to say, I still couldn't fall asleep that night.
Are you falling asleep reading this?
WHY DON'T I HAVE MORE INTERESTING THINGS TO SAY?
Because we were swimming all day, lying out in the hot sun, and so my thoughts aren't exactly cohesive. Connecting. Corresponding.
Know what else starts with the letter 'C'?
I have A LOT more pictures of her.
Picture books to come.
In about a week or so.
And don't worry, I'll try to stay out of the sun.