It’s Tortilla Time| Hi I’m Tori and This is my Story

Ohio was as entertaining as ever.

Po still is still the uncanny image of a potato.

Liam is still a monster.

I cannot believe that that kid is two and a half. Un-freakin-believable.

My coming home from Ohio always results in me missing my family immensely, but comforting is the fact that I know that I will see them before long. It was far worse when I was younger, and dependant on my father to take me to see them. This is one instance where ageing provides an advantage.

I am so tired.

I have a biology exam tomorrow morning, though I do feel prepared and I am not overly stressed about it.

I am so tired.

I get to see my babies in twelve days. It is such a weird emotion, missing your brothers. Today I spoke briefly with Liam on the phone, which subsequently made me miss him more.

Liam- Hi.
Me- Hello Liam.
Liam- Hi.
Me- Liam!
Liam- Hi.
Me- I love you.
Liam- I love me.
….
Liam- Hi.

I’m going to Ohio in twelve days, which I am obviously extremely excited about.

I am so tired.

I should probably go to bed.

Intensely.

I ache for my baby brothers. Even the one that looks like a potato. Hopefully I will see them before long.

The few days spent with my father were about as mundane as expected. I was pleased that I was able to finally meet The Potato (which has since been shortened to Po), though I will sincerely miss telling people that I have a brother that I haven’t met yet. Simply for the ghetto value, you see.

Liam is now entering what is considered to be the terrible twos, and after this weekend I have determined that this is a very appropriate title for such a phase. I have been subjected to much beating and malice at his two year old hands. An incident that stands out in mind occurred in the car.

Me- Liam, kick me one more time and I will take your soo-soo (soother, binky, pacifier, whatever-you-please) and toss it out the window.
Liam- Stares blankly in shock and angst.
Me- Okay, I may be kidding about that, but BY GOD I WILL take your soo-soo.

She-who-shall-not-be-named was her usual mannerly (ha) self. I wished to watch Rugrats, which was of course denied. Tom and Jerry was quickly put on instead. It wasn’t two minutes later that she-who-shall-not-be-named emerged from the television room with Liam and remote in hand. She remained out of the room for the remaining duration of the show. So there I was, sitting alone in a room, watching a stupid show that I had no desire to watch.

No offence is intended to those with love for Tom and Jerry, but as a child of the 90s, nothing can suffice for Rugrats.

Another interesting instance was when I noticed my coat thrown over a chair. Right after I had hanged it in the closet. Sometimes I don’t even dare ask.

My father was quite curious as to why I continually referred to Aidan as Po.

Father- So what exactly is with this ‘Po’ nickname?
Me- Well you see, Po is short for Potato, to which he resembles uncannily.
Father- You think he looks like a potato?
Me- Well, I mean it in the most lovingly way possible.

 I have two unbelievably adorable baby brothers. Even if one does slightly resemble a potato.

I present to you my (half) brother, the potato.

Today I had a brief visit with the father ‘thing’.

I finally was able to view pictures of my newest little bother (intentional typo, I’ll have you know). His appearance resembles that of a hairy, shrivelled up, klingon-looking potato. With scratched-up cheeks, which have undoubtedly fell victim to the CLAWS on his ridiculously long, skinny fingers. It’s hardly human. I assume that this is normal of newborns.

Basically, Aidan is best described as a potato.

Why do I always use potatoes as metaphors?

My baby (half) brother Aidan James graced the world with his presence this morning at around three AM.

Liam called and told me so.

I find it endearing that Liam has somehow contrived a name for me, even if it does consist of ‘Toto‘. I sincerely hope that this name wasn’t developed because of my likeness to Toto in The Wizard of Oz. However, I imagine that being called ‘Toto‘ is an improvement over being the play bitch that he merely points at. Oh to be two.

Speaking of endearing, that was my simple response to the news of the birth of little Aidan. It proved similar to my acknowledgement of the fact that I was going to be a big sister yet again. Except the word that I chose for that occasion was ‘charmed‘. I am beginning to feel that my father is growing displeased with my lack of enthusiasm to the growing Davis clan.

It may have to do with the fact that these kids are half evil.

Liam; my little brother, mon petit frere, my tiny comrade. My ‘half’ brother if you wish to be technical, a product of my father and she-who-shall-not-be-named. It’s nearing two years that Liam’s been in existence, and it’s proved difficult to come to terms with the fact that HE IS NO LONGER A BABY.

I’m supposed to visit them in the depths of hell over the course of the Christmas break, a task finds me less than enthralled. Why? She-who-shall-not-be-named. She is undoubtedly the most vile, vindictive, selfish human being in the Northern Hemisphere. And perhaps the Southern Hemisphere. And Tobago, wherever the hell that is.