Lea’s helping her mom with her dad tonight, so I’ve got the boys by myself. I just kicked off the Quentin Tarantino marathon. I’ve discovered they both like Bacardi in their juice, too. In a bit we’ll go out and pick up some habanero wings at Beauregard’s for dinner, and maybe swing by Jimmy’s on the way home.
No, no, no. Of course that isn’t the way it’s going. The preceding is untrue and is meant to be humorous. (I hate to diminish my little joke with a specific denial, but after all, there are a great many people about who use the phrase “for the children” neither sarcastically nor ironically when describing what they do for a living.)
We are having pizza for dinner, though. Hopefully it’s still a couple of years, anyway, before there’s a government agency charged with prosecuting those who feed excess sodium and fat to children.
I miss Lea when she’s not here, but there are a couple of enjoyable little novelties that come with the situation. I’ll probably watch a DVD in bed tonight, for example.
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You could always compromise on the wings / dancers and go to Hooters instead.
I’ll have to remember that for next time. Simplify, simplify…