Dad: "That's what you have kids for."
Mom: "Right! Cenzo, will you put the heat on underneath the tea pot for me?"
Son: "Is that really why you had kids?"
Dad: "Well, if it is, then we are absolute failures, because you never help us do anything."
Word, daddy-o.
* * *
It's been a red letter week at Lake Alatorre. I couldn't even write it if I tried. Actually, I wouldn't want to. This is a week I hope to leave behind, and one that had better result in a reduction in my overall Purgatory time. Good-bye week. May your ugly head never rear again, may your claws unclench forever, may you scurry away into the hole from whence you came. And may that hole be a black one, a swirling vortex that will swallow you whole and for all time.
OK, maybe it wasn't that bad, but still and anyway, I'm damn glad it's almost over.
How was yours?
* * *
1 comment:
Mine was tired. Not bad, per se, just tired. And this silly resurgence of heat, JUST as I'd gotten all comfy with the autumn coolth, and when I'd planned meals for the week (and bought the ingredients) based on weather hovering in the 50s and 60s rather than the 80s....
I'm tired.
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