I haven't worked at home alone with Baz in some time. Today Adam started a gig in the city and it's me and Bazzy and the pups and holy shit this is the way it goes:
"Okay, Baz, I'm gonna need you to play with your trains for a few minutes."
"Milkies!"
"Okay, here you go. Now, want to hang out with your toys for a few minutes? Or read a book? Or plot the revolution?"
"Little Deuce Coupe."
"Sure, okay, let's listen to it for the 27 millionth time. Cool?"
"Maisy."
"Why not, let's read this fucking stupid book once again. Just make sure you say Mr. Cock for Mr. Peacock so's Mommy can have a laugh, okay?"
"Mabel."
I. Am. Not. Your. Daycare. Director. Absolutely nothing against Mabel, who is a wizard and a goddess and a damn good person to boot. But I'm the one who had restless leg syndrome and felt you kick and dreamt about being called Mommy. So do it, God damn it.
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