I blog gluten-free

Saturday, September 11, 2010


If you're a friend of mine, I'll be there for you. 
I will hold back your hair while you worship the gods of Porcelain.
If you have a cold, I will cheerfully tell you to stay the hell away from me.
Because, you know I love ya, and my chicken soup recipe, and I'll deliver the goods, with a surgical mask, but I can catch cold if someone in Timbuktu sneezes.
Now, if we're really close, I'll be there to tuck you in and all. And I promise, I won't snidely say "Well, gosh thanks. You've given me books, trinkets, drinks, food, and love, but do we have to share everything? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAchoo!"
I'll curl up with you when you're sad and need a cry.
I won't tell you if you look like a Muppet afterwards.
If your mascara is running, I'll wipe it away.
I'll fight with you on occasion. Because I am stubborner than hell and attract people who are the same way.
I'll annoy you. I'm so darned stubborn, and so darned clumsy, I can't help it. And I worry. About everything. I worry if a baby in Bumfuk Egypt needs his nose wiped. 
I'll attempt to politely and gracefully tell you you're making an ass out of yourself when you need it. On occasion, I'll be blunt and say "You horse's ass! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
I'll bake cookies with you for breakfast at 4AM. I love chocolate chip for breakfast.
I'll sit and drink coffee with you for hours on end at Denny's.
I'll split fries with you at 2AM.
I'll trust you, unless you prove you cannot be trusted.
I may not share everything about what's wrong with me, if I'm sad, but I'll try.
I promise: I'll be a snot, a brat, a goofus. I'll joke around. And I'll always share good cooking with you. 'Cause sharing is caring.

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