Blimey! It be hard to wrest a wee matey 'round a gymnastics class fer toddlers. Oh aye, I be a sturdy wench but 'tis still a scurvy piece o' work indeed to lift an' tumble the lad o'er mats an' 'crost swingin' ropes--him bein' naught but fourteen month an' all. Me back be achin' a'times belike I'd met the rope's end.

I been hard at work, me hearties, landlubber's work to be sure, affixin' silver trim on a fine frock fer me costume ball a week an' a half hence--it be a thrifty crimson polyester frock salvaged from the nineteen-sixties, an' me alterations be in the style o' Classic Star Trek, civilian-like, fer this wench be unlike t' wear a poxy Next Generation Starfleet uniform, party theme be damned. Wit' me blue skin an' wig, I be certain t' look like a space wench fit fer Cap'n Kirk hisself, swagged smartly off a time-space anomaly, and ye can call me Mary Sue if'n ye like, I'll be writin' meself into yer fandom even still, ye blaggards!

Avast, it be time t' step away from the computer fer now. Merry talk like a pirate day to ye!