I took Strudel to Port Townsend last week. She is SIX now! I used to take her sister places and she asked why I never took her anywhere.

Internal Voice: Because you’re INSANE.

Out Loud: Because you are not quite old enough.

Strudel: How old do I have to be?

Internal Voice: 37.

Out Loud: Ummm, six?

She held me to it, too. Naturally my goofball gets into the car and when we arrive, I discover that in spite of reminding her two or three times, she has not packed or taken her coat.

“You did not remind me ENOUGH, Mom.” Christ on a fucktaco crumpet. So we bought a fleecy windbreaker thing since I knew downtown and the beaches are crazy windy. I took her to see “Rango,” which was really cute but she started crashing around 8:30 or so. How fun is it to see a movie out of town, anyway? I love it.

We had to leave the movie, but that’s okay. She was so tired she told me I was ruining the WHOLE TRIP, but she slept it off. Then I turned the news on quietly and saw Japan and cried a little.

My sister moved in with me. WOW! BIG NEWS! COOL! CHANGES! I am happy I have one last member of my dysfunctional family that I did not actually make with my own body standing. It’s not a yardstick or gold star, but it’s nice. I think she was feeling really good about her decision until she came home on Saturday night and I was wearing cat ears and kicking Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel, LOUDLY.