AbezAbez Is... 50% White, 50 % Pakistani, Muslim Hijab-wearing type female, Daughter of Momma, Sister of Owlie Wife of HF, Momma of Khalid, a special little boy with Autism, and Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair, Writer, Graphic Designer, Editor, Freelancer, Blogger, Inhaler of Chocolate
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My Husband, who never updates!

Mona, who I don't visit enough

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Baji, the orginal robot monkey pirate

Prometheus, who buts brains to blog about Autism

Socrates, a blogger with Asperger's

Jo, a funnier Autism mom with a great blog

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ASAT- Assosciation for Science in Autism Treatments

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Tuesday, January 18, 2005

I feel good, nanananananana! I knew that I would, nanananananana!

Alhamdulillah, SubhanAllah, I feel much, much better today. Alhamdulillah. Being sick is such an effective reminder of how nice health is, how much of a luxury it is to be able to stand up straight after you had been bent over in pain- what a pleasure it is to look at food and think mmmmmm instead of uggggg.

Because I ate almost nothing all day yesterday, I'm making up for it today with ravioli from Italian Oven (God Bless you Chai) and Cream of Cream soup with onion bread from home for dinner. I've also had a cup of coffee and two Oreos.

(A note about Oreos, don't buy the ones that are made in China and shipped to Asia. They are halal, but they don't taste very nice. They've taken the price of shipping out of their chocolate expenses. Or so it tastes. Buy local, buy Rite Cookies!)

So it's now 9 pm and I'm feeling tired but content. I'm still recovering, which explains why I feel ready for bed at this ridiculously early hour, but I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep without dreams of things punching me in the stomach. And so, because I'm sleepy, I leave this blog as it is and paste a joke instead. Thank you and good night.

***

The other night I was invited out for a night with "the boys". I told my wife that I would be home by midnight ..promise!


Well, the hours passed and the beer was going down way too easy.
At around 2:30 a.m., drunk as a skunk, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times.


Quickly, I realized she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed
another 9 times. I was really proud of myself, having a quick-witted solution, even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict.


The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in, and I told
her twelve o'clock. She didn't seem disturbed at all. Whew! Got away with that one!


She then told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked
her why, she said, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said "oh crap," cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then farted."

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