I've been away for awhile, and I've missed you, really. Been busy writing, writing, writing, as all good writers are (and since that is what I aspire to be, I'm right there with them, pounding away, hoping something good will stumble out one of these days).
Actually, I've also been busy talking ... on the phone, that is. Sharing the minutiae of my life as Queen of the TC, and getting immediate feedback, as in laughter. Now who would laugh at my misfortunes in the life and times of children causing major household damage? A childless friend, of course. And she's laughing with me, without cringing at the repair bills that come after the giggles die down. She also doesn't own her current home, and so has no idea what a plumber costs these days, or a new toilet, for that matter.
I wish I didn't ... and I wish I didn't keep it as a monthly line item in my budget! Is it still funny when the plumber has a nickname for your house? We're the dinosaur house, in case you were wondering.
But it's good to laugh. And I promise not to cry when I get the estimate for the new ceiling in the kitchen (the one directly below the 2nd floor bathroom) because the devil child really had some fun in the tub, tonite.
Maybe he won't be laughing when he finds out his college fund is sending the plumber's kid to Harvard.