As I was cleaning up to stash stuff away to paint my room the other day, Monster comes up to me with his usual “what’s this?”. To be honest, I don’t usually look because if I say “you tell me” he already knows what he’s holding. So when I hear a bag crumpling and a bit of a sandy kinda noise to go along with the “I asked YOU!” I got a little curious. I turned around to find him attempting to dig into a bag of ashes. I didn’t want to traumatize him with “that’s your baby sister” but I couldn’t think of anything else to say so I just said “that’s Darla” as I nabbed the bag as fast as I could without making him feel like he was doing something bad and popped them back into the box they came in from the funeral home. Noted, DO NOT leave ashes within reach of a child unless you want to risk a mess.

This also counts for overly curious men that don’t ask before they try prying into things. I had a flashback of one of my friends nearly scattering my dad all over his moms kitchen when she was helping my glue shut the cross I was keeping him in. We got a good laugh at how traumatized he was about what he almost did (only prevented by both his mother and I lunging across the room to tear it out of his hands). Then again we were both a little fumigated on glue and covered in a dusting of ashes ourselves.

Note to anyone trying to transfer ashes independently: they stick like nobodies business and really burn if you get any in your eyes.

So back to the original topic, Darla. How old do you think Monster will have to be before I’ll be able to explain to him who she is…was? Without seriously freaking him out. And when he’d be able to actually grasp it.

I got a call from a tattoo artist (is that the right term? seems wong at the moment) today and he’s going to start on designing my baby feet for me based off a few images I sent him. He recommended the shoulder for what I was wanting but said that the hip is doable too (he had logic that I forgot right after he told me). So it’s between those two places now.

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