border="0"> Snow Trapped Southern Girl

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Baby he was born to run....

See this face.......

This is the face of a little runaway. He can't help himself. He doesn't dart out of open doors. No, he waits. He waits until he sees a door that has been left slightly ajar and sneaks out. OR like he did last night, he sees a screen door, opens it himself (he is crafty like that) just enough to squeeze through and then takes a little walk on the wild side. Now, what does this little man do when he finally has freedom? He goes down the steps on the back deck to the sliding door on the 3rd level and proceeds to scream until someone (me) comes back from taking man child to soccer practice (yeah, I am a soccer mom now) and hears him to let him in. Where was teenage daughter during all of this? Well she was down in her bedroom (on the fourth floor in another dimension) doing what teenage girls do - most likely talking on the phone with her BFF. I don't know how long he was out there. Soccer practice is an hour. Luckily, he didn't go very far. This cat is too smart (or stupid depending on how you look at it) for his own good. He is a house kitty and trips outside just aren't smart.

On a sweeter note. I went yesterday to get a massage on my knee (yeah that was it, the rest of the body was just a bonus) because it has been acting up again. When I got home the kids were already home from school and what did I see? The man child had brought me a bouquet of flowers. Not dandelions that he picked on the way home. REAL flowers. I guess he ordered them from school at some point. It was a really sweet surprise (because I LOVE LOVE LOVE getting flowers) and he was quite pleased with himself too. I would have taken a picture but Mr. Cheeky has the camera in Germany this week. Maybe I can borrow teenage daughters camera......

Cheeky - in honor of Sylvester and his wild streak is singing .....

In the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream
At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines
Sprung from cages out on highway 9,
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected
and steppin' out over the line
Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we're young
'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend
I want to guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims
and strap your hands across my engines
Together we could break this trap
We'll run till we drop, baby we'll never go back
Will you walk with me out on the wire
'Cause baby I'm just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta find out how it feels
I want to know if love is wild
girl I want to know if love is real

Beyond the Palace hemi-powered drones scream down the boulevard
The girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors
And the boys try to look so hard
The amusement park rises bold and stark
Kids are huddled on the beach in a mist
I wanna die with you Wendy on the streets tonight
In an everlasting kiss

The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
Everybody's out on the run tonight
but there's no place left to hide
Together Wendy we'll live with the sadness
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul
Someday girl I don't know when
we're gonna get to that place
Where we really want to go
and we'll walk in the sun
But till then tramps like us
baby we were born to run

Posted byWendy aka Cheeky :: 6:41 AM :: 12 Singing with Cheeky

Sing with Cheeky