For the record, I don't owe you people any excuses! It's my blog. I can abandon it when I want to.
Not that I wanted to. I've actually had things to say. Gripping things about life and the weather, and what a soulless, rancorous bitch Missy is. Really important shit, that you, as my captive, eagar audience, need to know.
But alas, other, more pressing matters got in the way. Hard to say exactly what. Honestly, I forget. But I'm sure it had something to do with that heartless, hard-headed, obstinate mule of a harpy-aping daughter of mine. That surly, uncompromising, head-strong, wilful little I'll-move-when-I-bloody-well-feel-like-it-and-not-a-second-sooner-you-spineless-impotent-old-hag wee whippersnapper with whom I've been engaging in open hostilities for the better part of a month now.
Pfft. The Terrible Two's. As if. Hard-hitting, urban warfare with sippy grenades and minion troops of Fisher Price Little People more like. I've been through this battle twice before, so I've got experience on my side. But Jesus God! She is orders of magnitude scrappier than my other two opponents! Our stand-offs bring to mind the scene in that awful King Arthur movie of a few years back, where the Stellan Skaarsgård character finally meets Arthur before the final battle and walks away muttering, "Finally, a man worth killin'." That's Missy and I. It's do-or-die. We fight to the death.