Yesterday S. and I attended older charge's 3rd birthday party, complete with moonwalk and screaming kids. And booze. Lots of booze. At ten in the morning. I love my employers. S. got to meet the J.-family-infatuated Mom mentioned in THIS ENTRY and was amused. She and her husband are quite nice but I still don't understand the reverence. And if I ever do understand it, it'll mean I've been in Texas too long and someone should shoot me. Twice.
Oh look! THE WIFE KILLER is coming to the other wife killer's defense. Kinda like an updated version of the Little Rascals' He-man Woman Hater's Club, with actual bloody death. Neato!
Phone conversation with my 5-year-old nephew:
Me: Gabe, how was your Halloween? Did you get a lot of loot?
Gabe: Yes! A ton!
Me: What was your costume this year?
Gabe: I was a sh45lkjrlj.
Me: A shirt?
Gabe: No, a SHARK.
Me: Oh, I thought you said you went as a shirt and I was going to say next year you could go as pants.
Gabe: (laughs) Or I could go as...(whispers) UNDERPANTS!!! (At which point he started laughing so hard at his own joke that he dropped the phone).
Since I can't be at home for Thanksgiving this year, I sent my family THIS DISGUSTING ITEM. I'm only sorry I won't be there to see my nephews dare each other to drink it, then throw up. *sigh*
And on that vomit-y note, I bid you good morrow.