Maybe this shouldn't count

since I finished writing well after midnight, but here are this week's stats:

Tonight's words: 507
Days of writing: 5
Weekly count: 2648

Woot.

Here's to an easier week next week. 

Don't be jealous

A conversation in the Faure household:

Julien puts on music while Soëlie and I are in the kitchen, serving up Father's Day breakfast. Motorhead starts blaring through the speakers.

J: Ooh la, maybe Motorhead is a bit much in the morning.

Soon the sounds of Pascale Picard come from the living room.

Me, to S: Listen to that, honey, Papa put on music from the woman he would leave me for.
J:  Listen to who's talking.  If Val Kilmer came along, inviting you to run off with him, you'd go in a heartbeat.
M: Would not.
J: Yes you would. "Oh, Val! Of course I'll come. Let me be your Willow!"
M, with raised eyebrows: Your Willow? Um, as in: Let me be your male dwarf?*

J says that Mr Kilmer has not aged well, but I assert that Madmartigan was hot, and give me Iceman any day over Tom Cruise.
_____________
* Sorry if this is not the accepted term for little people. It is what popped out of my mouth.

Yes, I did pee my pants

Conversation, follow up.

I was typing a response to asakiyume in my last entry, when I turned to J for inspiration:

M, not giving J any context: What mythological creature would you compare me to?
J: What?
M: An ogre?
J: What!?
The priceless look of utter confusion on his face makes me choke on my tea. Which I find so hilarious I choke even harder. I am finally able to spit my tea back into the cup without spraying it all over my laptop. I literally can't breathe, I'm laughing so hard, simultaneously choking on inhaled tea.
M, able to stop laughing long enough to ask again: Well? What mythological creature?
J: A llama.

o.O

Then I laughed so hard I peed my pants.