The Way Things Are



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February 23, 2005
2005-02-23, 8:32 a.m.

February 23, 2005. My son, my 12-year-old Lil Guy became a man last night. Get your minds out of the gutter – he chased down and squashed a big-ass cockroach for me. What happened was, he spied the denizen of hell strolling nonchalantly across our dining room floor, and squealed “Mom! A cockroach!” I rolled my eyes and said “Get something and kill it, son.” He asked for one of my shoes – yeah, right, here, let me slip this shoe off so you can squash a big-ass bug with it – but I pointed out to him that the flyswatter would work better. So he did, and it did, and when the carnage was over, he even disposed of the offending alien with a wad of paper towels. He is training up quite nicely indeed.

My beloved DishWasher came within 1 hour (or so he estimates) of finishing the insultation installation, and called it quits and came home at 8:00 last night. He resumed work this morning before 5:30.

In other news, the tag in the back of my shirt is driving me batshit insane, so I’m off to the facilities to cut it out. Cut it out!

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