Well Shut My Mouth

Pardon my Southern, but ain't no way I'm going to tell you about today. Nuh-uh. No way.
You could not pay me all the gold at the end of the rainbow to describe the rollercoaster ride of THIS day. For one thing, all these lying memoirists making headlines will come to mind. You'll think I'm spinning some crazy yarn about the brand new babysitter who made sure the rooster's dad and I both took down her cell number, and then disappeared for the entire day with our son without answering the phone that rang with increasing frequency for the next seven hours, more and more after I got home desperate and frantic to see no sign of them.
But for darn sure there ain't no way I'm going to tell you about how the rooster acted when he came HOME grinning ear to ear with the babysitter, who claimed he spent the day with her at the park WITH FRIENDS, having a BLAST. Nuh uh. I am from the South, and when I am adamant, I need the twang, and I reckon that only a FOOL would tell you how the rooster and his sister sat happily playing for more than an hour with little plastic cake decorating pieces from one of my baby showers. You could beg me on your hands and knees to show you the video we shot, so entranced were my husband and I, and I wouldn't let you see them on our kitchen floor, taking turns, or hear them talk about sharing the plastic baby dolls and pretending to feed them. No, I don't talk about these things anymore, I don't mention when the rooster of sweeter days shows back up at our house for a spell, and I don't tell tales about the excellent use of pronouns and question words and abstract language and referencing and reciprocity. Not for all the tea in China am I going to let the whole darn Internet know about the kisses and giddy laughs I got tonight, boy. And don't you try and get me to talk, either. You just hush right up about the whole crazy thing. Tomorrow is a new day, and when it really, really, really sucks, THEN you'll hear from me. I will have plenty to say about that.