Top Management’s under the weather today. Way, way under the weather. And when that happens the world ceases to make sense. All the rest of us kinda stumble around the house in a daze. She’s the rock upon which our family is built, the glue that keeps us together, the tie that binds us, the fun in our funk.
She's ginchy. We dig her.
I don’t like it when she’s sick. On the other hand, I’m sure the kids like it even less. I can’t really blame them. Bread and water must get old after you’ve had it for three meals in a row, especially as you watch your dad munch on a frozen pizza. Maybe tomorrow morning I’ll give them some raisins too. But probably not. You can spoil ‘em that way. Or so I’ve heard.
Spoil them??? I bet you didn't even make them bake the bread themselves did you??? Softee....
Tell TM we miss here & hope she's better soon
Posted by: Hooly | Wednesday, September 21, 2005 at 04:48 AM
Tell TM we miss here & hope she's better soon
You can't have her. She's mine.
Posted by: Scott | Wednesday, September 21, 2005 at 11:35 AM