The Talker and I sneaked away to see a movie. Understand, The Talker is 11 and our “dates” are coming few and far between, so this was important. Very important. Important enough for me to sneak him into The Hannah Montana Movie. It was his idea, and I adore him. I didn’t want to go. I don’t like Tween shows. I was prepared for the worst. I bought nachos.

Maybe the “cheese” in my movie theatre nachos contained some sort of hallucinogenic drug. Maybe, it was the thrill of driving to the theatre twice, because I forgot my wallet. I’m not ruling out the possibility that my first root beer in months may have been enough to put me over the edge…

I cried during Hannah Montana.

I am a dork.

He just asked me for $5 for a new rendering of his cartoon that depicts how mean I am. I’m a dork, he’s a shark. Scary.