If I wish very very hard, maybe all these leaves will blow right through our yard and into the neighbors. But it must be soon, for I have to mow. When I'm done running back and forth to the school that is, reveling in the whole elementary grade fuss that has taken our neighborhood into it's death grip, not to spit us out until the end of next June. This is a riot. I watch the clock constantly, waiting for the time when my shadow (Ruth) gets reattached, though shadowgirl has a miserable cold and was up all night long.
When I'm done mowing I'm going to drag the too-heavy recycling bin all the way to the end of the driveway, because I can't lift it.
Then I'll paint the steps, because I was supposed to do it in July and then Cole died and well, a lot of shit didn't get done.
This is why men were invented, folks, so that Bridget wouldn't have to flex her domestic muscles past folding laundry and cleaning floors.
But where are all the boys, you ask?
A bachelor party.
And what kind of bachelor party starts at lunch time on a Thursday?
One that is obviously going to be memorable. Or possibly dangerous. Not sure which but hey, they're having fun and that's something that there hasn't been a lot of this year.
Me? I have lots to keep me busy. I wasn't invited, despite offering to dance and everything. Hmmph.
