Well, sweet boy, both you and your sister were feeling better today. Well enough that we could go for a walk in the glorious sunshine, everything turning to slush and sparkle.
But mostly it was another quiet day. We danced to Elton John. Thisbe decorated a paper bag cover for her Bible. It now has fake jewels across the front and says "Thisbe" (you can decide for yourself what the implications of that might be). Your sister ate numerous bit of bagels with melted butter; you unenthusiastically swallowed a few spoonfuls of pears. I tried to tempt you into rolling over using a Little Mermaid glow wand. Thisbe dressed you in sunglasses and a baseball cap and spun the exer-saucer in circles. She stood on her head on the couch and scissored her legs while Daddy and I counted slowly to eight.
There's bread pudding in the oven. I didn't have rum so I soaked the raisins in a combination of whiskey and Heering. Daddy is at a planning meeting for Man Camp. On Friday he's skiing off into the woods of Northern Minnesota with 20 other men, a bunch of alcohol, and likely no deodorant. I'm watching Bridesmaids on TV, definitely one of my top favorite movies of all time. The women are on the plane on the way to Vegas right now, one of the best scenes in the film. So instead of saying anything of note I'm going to pour a drink and laugh. Because sometimes it's important to choose alcohol and hilarity over meaning and purpose. You'll learn this in college, if not before.
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