The sibs-in-law were in town this weekend.  My sibs-in-law–Sugar Daddy’s west coast bro and his midwest bro & midwest bro’s wife.  (I had a hard time wording that so it didn’t sound like they’re all a bunch of polygamists on that side of the family.)  I enjoy the sibs-in-law more than I enjoy my actual sibs because the sibs-in-law don’t have children of their own yet and can therefore fully appreciate how superior my kids are to all others in the universe.  The sister-in-law taught me a new word this weekend, too:  callipygian.  Look it up.  I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you.  Anyway, we decided while she was here that Elvis is the most callipygian of all.

The best part of this weekend was that I got five and a half hours to myself while S.D. and the gang went to Tillamook and visited the cheese factory.  (What can I tell you?  This is
Oregon, it was a holiday weekend and it was raining.)  So I spent the whole time writing and finally finished a story that I started in 2002.  No kidding.  Someday I’ll let you in on the secret of writing the breakthrough novel.  But not today because there’s too much laundry.

To celebrate this red-letter day I decided that come this summer, I’m going to take my friend’s advice and get myself a girl.  As in babysitter.  Or, as they’re known in our house, a
Brittany.  With Princess Zurg home all day, I’m going to need some extra help, and we’ve already upped the Zoloft dosage as much as we dare.

This is not a good day for writing.  My brain is like one of those blinking VCR clocks this morning.

I’m feeding dinner to the missionaries tonight.  For some reason, this always gets on my nerves.  I think I just can’t stop thinking of them as a bunch of arrogant teenage boys eating all my food.  I haven’t gotten a confirmation from them yet, so I don’t know if either of them has any allergies or extreme food aversions.  Hopefully they’re not allergic to pork because that’s what’s in the freezer.  I know, who’s allergic to pork?  Well, you’d be surprised.  We fed a missionary last summer who was allergic to pork and chocolate.  (Needless to say, those bacon brownies we served for dessert did not go over well.)  But I don’t have a plan B this time, so these boys will have to like it or lump it, whatever that means.Speaking of lumping it, it’s time to feed the kids lunch before they start gnawing on the frozen pork.

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