Don't ask me to write about him today. I'm not going to.
Instead I should tell you I snuck another handful of not-yet-ripe cherries off the tree only to realize when I was eating the last one that they had fruit fly larvae in them.
All told we lost half of that crop since after I was done quiet-screaming at PJ and he googled to show me I wasn't going to die, we picked the rest of the cherries, inspected every single one, and wound up with three whole cups of untainted fruit.
I'm going to make a pie, that way I can cut them all in half to be sure they're safe but I may only eat Twinkies, Kraft Dinner and pop-tarts until the end of time because critters. They're in just about everything else.
Thank you, Google.
In other news, Sam's Kia was glitter-bombed last night. Not in the vents, just thrown all over the outside for fun. Unfortunately the perpetrator (ahem) is rather short and had no idea the sunroof was open and so she's pretty sure the worms were some sort of Divine retaliation.
Did you know the shop vac won't pick up glitter?
I didn't know that either.
At least Matt thought it was funny. He keeps texting me today, telling me there's glitter on everything now. Every time he lists a new place where he has found it I say GOOD because life should be covered in glitter.
But not bugs.
