So. The person that prompted the last rant of mine up and died last week. About 4 days after the rant. WHAT.THE.FUCK. Who does that? It's still surreal.
I have been trying for days to wrap my head around it and trying even harder to remember what I loved most about him. Why can you never think of that shit when you're sad? Or angry? Or when you just WANT to. But as I stood, ironing clothes for his funeral just now, it came to me.
I LOVED the way his eyes lit up when he saw me at family gatherings or if I dropped into his clinic with an ailing animal. His eyes would light up and he would get a big grin on his face and rise to his feet and embrace me. And he would always utter the same words: "You look lovelier than ever!" And I believed him. Every single time - for 27 years. Now who the hell is going to tell me that at family gatherings? I will miss that. And I will miss his laugh and his ranting about politics. Even though that part drove me nuts and I think I told him last time he started in on me to shut.the.fuck.up. But to him, that was conversing. Drove me batty. But I will still miss it.
Who will fix my broken animals? He fixed up my momma cat just last Christmas after she was hit by a car on Christmas Eve. He fixed up a puppy with parvo just a year or two prior to that. He even assured me when my ex-boyfriend's dog ate an entire Pyrex casserole dish that he would be fine - that a human could eat an entire beer bottle and live through it. I always suspicioned he knew that to be true because he'd done it before.
I always loved the way he loved his wife. He loved that woman more than anyone I've ever seen love anyone else. He did. I will always remember their wedding day. So young. So very very young. And so simple was the wedding - I think that's what made it even more beautiful. Not to mention it was really one of the only non-hideous brides maid dresses I ever had to wear. I appreciated that. And someone played a tape of "Could I have this Dance for the rest of my life" - and they danced around a very simple room. And you know what? For 27 years they danced together. And I admired their love for each other. It was the kind of love you envy.
So many many people loved this man. And admired him. I hope he is looking down on everyone now and smiling that shitty grin - and I hope he gives a little chuckle at the out pouring of love for him. And then I hope he gives himself a swift kick in the ass. Just because. Godspeed Kevin. I love you.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Leaving vs Surviving
I recently heard something that has been haunting me ever since: "You come from a family of leavers."
It wasn't said directly to me, but since I'm in the same family - it includes me via the generalized nature of the statement. And herein you will find a rhetorical response to the statement.
I'm not a leaver. I'm a SURVIVOR. The two are quite different. To have stayed would have meant a life of loneliness, emotional destruction of my soul, financial demise, arguing, and a lot of heaving of shit across the room at your fucking lazy ass. To have stayed would have meant that I chose to pander to your "poor pitiful me", "the world is against me" attitude. To have stayed would have meant that I chose to roll over and die - - kill the person I am on the inside - so I could stay back and be miserable with you. Because misery does love company, right? You blamed your series of unfortunate events on me. I was holding you back. I was bringing you down. Which is funny - because I was miles ahead of you and 7 rungs higher up on the ladder. YOU turned it into a competition. YOU didn't like the fact that despite your miserable existence, I was able to hold my head up high and keep climbing and moving forward. So you tried to drag my ass back down to your cess pool of a life.
YOU are a leaver. YOU chose the misery over the happiness. YOU chose irresponsibility over responsibility. YOU chose booze and fun over family and home. YOU LEFT. I was standing right there all along. That was me you saw alone with our kids on holidays, weekends, evenings. That was me you saw fiddling with the plumbing at 7 p.m. with two small children standing at bay because YOU left the broken pipe spewing water all over the house and went on to work and left it for me to deal with. That was me you saw organizing family gatherings and celebrations. That was me you saw mowing the grass, running a household and caring for our children. That was me you saw vacuuming the floors 26 hours after giving birth to our 2nd child - because you had to go to court over a ticket and left me at home alone with a newborn and a 2 yr. old.
YOU weren't there - most of the time physically absent. But even when your body was in the same house - your heart and mind were somewhere else. A walking shell of a person I once loved and admired and respected. You took for granted my kindness and benevolent love for you. You abused it. You tromped on it. You didn't respect it or nurture it or reciprocate it.
YOU left. I SURVIVED.
I'm not a leaver. What I am is someone not willing to buy into horse shit any and THAT my friend, is what pissed you off the most - that you could no longer manipulate me to get your way. When you could no longer fuck with my mind, you tried puffing your chest bigger, raising your voice louder, even made a run at using your physical prowess over my small stature. But I looked your fierce mean, hateful, stupid ass square and the face and dared you just do it. Just fucking punch me square in the face - because that'll be all I need to have a good solid reason to get out. But you didn't go through with it. I think you were afraid of my strength and determination and the fact that I was not scared of you or buying into your shit any longer. I won and you left - physically. And I breathed a sigh of relief, smiled and survived.
I have someone new now. Someone who loves me and respects me and nurtures me and empowers me. Someone that only says kind, loving things to me and only wants the absolute best for me. Someone who cries when I tell them about you, unable to comprehend how anyone could have treated me so badly. And every time I see you now, I'm reminded of what a manipulative, game playing bastard you are. And I thank God YOU were a leaver, so I could stay.
It wasn't said directly to me, but since I'm in the same family - it includes me via the generalized nature of the statement. And herein you will find a rhetorical response to the statement.
I'm not a leaver. I'm a SURVIVOR. The two are quite different. To have stayed would have meant a life of loneliness, emotional destruction of my soul, financial demise, arguing, and a lot of heaving of shit across the room at your fucking lazy ass. To have stayed would have meant that I chose to pander to your "poor pitiful me", "the world is against me" attitude. To have stayed would have meant that I chose to roll over and die - - kill the person I am on the inside - so I could stay back and be miserable with you. Because misery does love company, right? You blamed your series of unfortunate events on me. I was holding you back. I was bringing you down. Which is funny - because I was miles ahead of you and 7 rungs higher up on the ladder. YOU turned it into a competition. YOU didn't like the fact that despite your miserable existence, I was able to hold my head up high and keep climbing and moving forward. So you tried to drag my ass back down to your cess pool of a life.
YOU are a leaver. YOU chose the misery over the happiness. YOU chose irresponsibility over responsibility. YOU chose booze and fun over family and home. YOU LEFT. I was standing right there all along. That was me you saw alone with our kids on holidays, weekends, evenings. That was me you saw fiddling with the plumbing at 7 p.m. with two small children standing at bay because YOU left the broken pipe spewing water all over the house and went on to work and left it for me to deal with. That was me you saw organizing family gatherings and celebrations. That was me you saw mowing the grass, running a household and caring for our children. That was me you saw vacuuming the floors 26 hours after giving birth to our 2nd child - because you had to go to court over a ticket and left me at home alone with a newborn and a 2 yr. old.
YOU weren't there - most of the time physically absent. But even when your body was in the same house - your heart and mind were somewhere else. A walking shell of a person I once loved and admired and respected. You took for granted my kindness and benevolent love for you. You abused it. You tromped on it. You didn't respect it or nurture it or reciprocate it.
YOU left. I SURVIVED.
I'm not a leaver. What I am is someone not willing to buy into horse shit any and THAT my friend, is what pissed you off the most - that you could no longer manipulate me to get your way. When you could no longer fuck with my mind, you tried puffing your chest bigger, raising your voice louder, even made a run at using your physical prowess over my small stature. But I looked your fierce mean, hateful, stupid ass square and the face and dared you just do it. Just fucking punch me square in the face - because that'll be all I need to have a good solid reason to get out. But you didn't go through with it. I think you were afraid of my strength and determination and the fact that I was not scared of you or buying into your shit any longer. I won and you left - physically. And I breathed a sigh of relief, smiled and survived.
I have someone new now. Someone who loves me and respects me and nurtures me and empowers me. Someone that only says kind, loving things to me and only wants the absolute best for me. Someone who cries when I tell them about you, unable to comprehend how anyone could have treated me so badly. And every time I see you now, I'm reminded of what a manipulative, game playing bastard you are. And I thank God YOU were a leaver, so I could stay.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
GET OUT!!!!!
So this summer, we took the prodigal son AND his friend in for the summer. The friend has a rather rocky family life and we were willing to open our home and hearts to him and provide him a stable, family environment. We also had big plans to teach these young adults some basic responsibility and prepare them to get out on their own. FAIL.
Neither have managed to get a job. And then it reached a point in the summer when it was really just too damned late for them TO get jobs because they would be leaving first of August to return to college. No one is going to hire someone for a month. They sit their broke asses in our basement and sleep all day and play video games all night. They rummage through my kitchen at all hours of the night and eat all the food. And make a shit ton of noise. And leave on all the lights. And have built themselves a nice little apartment in our basement - complete with furniture and TVs and stereos and all the pleasures of the world. And my resentment toward them grows each and every day of this long hot fucking summer.
Yesterday I took the prodigal son to his college town to find an apartment/house. His first lease. We had a good day and found a good rental house. He has NO CLUE how he will pay the rent. Or the utilities. Or anything else. NONE. My frustration level with lack of responsibility is growing daily and yet I'm trying to do my best to help him get on his feet and move forward. He admitted yesterday that he's fed up with the shit going on at this house with his friend. and last night opted to sleep at someone else's house. Which is fine. He's trying to move forward positively.
But when I woke up this morning - the driveway was full of cars - some of which I didn't even recognize. Well, the friend that is living here for the summer evidently invited some of HIS friends over and they're all down in my basement snoozing away. I've passed two girls - whom I don't know - so far this morning. ALL Y'ALL GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. JUST GET YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT BECAUSE I'M FED THE FUCK UP. The husband said they were rummaging through the kitchen at midnight - ALL OF THEM. WHAT THE FUCK AM I? THE FUCKING SOUP KITCHEN?
I wanted to be THAT parent. The one that provides a safe harbor and lend an ear when needed. But these mother fuckers are on my last nerve. They are irresponsible idiots. You're 20 - go get a god damned job and get your own house and do NOT come back here until such time that you can fucking function as a responsible adult.
The prodigal son is leaving on August 1st to his new place - his new life - and I hope to hell he gets his shit together and pulls his head out of his ass because this is his last chance. But these other fuckers had better get their shit out of my house on that same date because I did NOT sign up to be a homeless shelter for a bunch of lazy, irresponsible fucks who just want to take and take and take. I want to yell at one: "YOU HAVE A FUCKING HOUSE - GO LIVE IN IT" and I want to yell at the other one: "THE REASON YOUR PARENTS DON'T HAVE A POT TO PISS IN IS BECAUSE YOU HAVE DRAINED ALL OF THEIR ACCOUNTS WITH YOUR LAZINESS AND DISRESPECT - THAT'S FINE - BUT YOU'RE NOT TAKING MY HOUSE TOO"
That's all - JUST GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!
Neither have managed to get a job. And then it reached a point in the summer when it was really just too damned late for them TO get jobs because they would be leaving first of August to return to college. No one is going to hire someone for a month. They sit their broke asses in our basement and sleep all day and play video games all night. They rummage through my kitchen at all hours of the night and eat all the food. And make a shit ton of noise. And leave on all the lights. And have built themselves a nice little apartment in our basement - complete with furniture and TVs and stereos and all the pleasures of the world. And my resentment toward them grows each and every day of this long hot fucking summer.
Yesterday I took the prodigal son to his college town to find an apartment/house. His first lease. We had a good day and found a good rental house. He has NO CLUE how he will pay the rent. Or the utilities. Or anything else. NONE. My frustration level with lack of responsibility is growing daily and yet I'm trying to do my best to help him get on his feet and move forward. He admitted yesterday that he's fed up with the shit going on at this house with his friend. and last night opted to sleep at someone else's house. Which is fine. He's trying to move forward positively.
But when I woke up this morning - the driveway was full of cars - some of which I didn't even recognize. Well, the friend that is living here for the summer evidently invited some of HIS friends over and they're all down in my basement snoozing away. I've passed two girls - whom I don't know - so far this morning. ALL Y'ALL GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. JUST GET YOUR SHIT AND GET THE FUCK OUT BECAUSE I'M FED THE FUCK UP. The husband said they were rummaging through the kitchen at midnight - ALL OF THEM. WHAT THE FUCK AM I? THE FUCKING SOUP KITCHEN?
I wanted to be THAT parent. The one that provides a safe harbor and lend an ear when needed. But these mother fuckers are on my last nerve. They are irresponsible idiots. You're 20 - go get a god damned job and get your own house and do NOT come back here until such time that you can fucking function as a responsible adult.
The prodigal son is leaving on August 1st to his new place - his new life - and I hope to hell he gets his shit together and pulls his head out of his ass because this is his last chance. But these other fuckers had better get their shit out of my house on that same date because I did NOT sign up to be a homeless shelter for a bunch of lazy, irresponsible fucks who just want to take and take and take. I want to yell at one: "YOU HAVE A FUCKING HOUSE - GO LIVE IN IT" and I want to yell at the other one: "THE REASON YOUR PARENTS DON'T HAVE A POT TO PISS IN IS BECAUSE YOU HAVE DRAINED ALL OF THEIR ACCOUNTS WITH YOUR LAZINESS AND DISRESPECT - THAT'S FINE - BUT YOU'RE NOT TAKING MY HOUSE TOO"
That's all - JUST GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Thank GOD it's Monday
Good grief. I thought that weekend would NEVER end. It started on Wednesday night with a surprise visit from the husband's BFF and family. I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol since July 4th because I was pretty sure that my liver was screaming and my kidneys were shutting down. But because of the surprise guests - I had to have a beer! Actually, I had to have 5 beers. Then Thursday, I had one of my sissers over to swim in the pool because it was like seven thousand and twenty degrees out. And she brought a magnum of vodka and some crystal light. Mmmmm - that was yummy. The afternoon session turned into an evening session when her husband got off work and I think I finally went to bed around 10:00. But I already had plans with another sisser for a Friday Funday in the pool - so I had to get up early and get my game face on. I went and picked her up and SHE brought some strawberry vodka and crystal light. That shit was yummy too! And that afternoon session went into the evening when HER husband got off of work. See the trend here? It's the husbands. They are the problem.
Saturday, we decided to repeat Thursday because we'd had so much fun with that sisser and her husband - and we managed to kill that magnum of vodka - FINALLY. And more friends came over and I think half the county was here at one point actually - becuase it was seven thousand and twenty two degrees that day. By Sunday I was pretty sure the enamel had been eaten off my teeth from all the lemondade and vodka - and I hit the ceiling from pain the minute my toothbrush touched my teeth. I walked outside and found it to EIGHT thousand and two at 11:00 a.m. So I marched right upstairs and put on a swimming suit and invited BOTH my sissers over so they could get to know each other better. And I'll be damned if there wasn't MORE vodka. I thought I'd finished off all the booze in the county, but evidently I had not. All I know is that by 7:30 I needed to go to bed and by 8:00 that's EXACTLY where I was. Woke up this morning - thankful that all the people had gone to work and I wouldn't have to have ANOTHER party today.
I love sitting in the pool with my sissers - talking about our husbands - and how awkward it must be for them to walk around with those private parts between their legs all the time. They must feel ridiculous - which likely also explains why they do shit that makes no sense. Oh - and balls are ugly. Born ugly and just get worse with age. We decided if we had balls we'd castrate ourselves so we didn't have to have those ugly fuckers hanging around all the time. We also wear itsty bitsy bikinis we've hijacked from our daughter's rooms and prance around in them telling each other how amazing we look. No one is allowed to have body image issues in my pool - and no one is allowed to pass judgement or EVER say anything about anyone swimming at my house. It's the safe place. You comment on the suit - NOT the fact that the top looks more like a cumberband than a bra due to gravity and such. THAT SUIT IS CUTE!!!! Yep! It is! Thanks! Do you also like my stretch marks? I hadn't even noticed them and still can't see them. YAY!!!!
So today it's back to the grindstone - laundry, work, meetings, SOFTBALL. And I think I need to stay out of the pool. And away from the vodka. What if I were to fill the pool with vodka though..............
Saturday, we decided to repeat Thursday because we'd had so much fun with that sisser and her husband - and we managed to kill that magnum of vodka - FINALLY. And more friends came over and I think half the county was here at one point actually - becuase it was seven thousand and twenty two degrees that day. By Sunday I was pretty sure the enamel had been eaten off my teeth from all the lemondade and vodka - and I hit the ceiling from pain the minute my toothbrush touched my teeth. I walked outside and found it to EIGHT thousand and two at 11:00 a.m. So I marched right upstairs and put on a swimming suit and invited BOTH my sissers over so they could get to know each other better. And I'll be damned if there wasn't MORE vodka. I thought I'd finished off all the booze in the county, but evidently I had not. All I know is that by 7:30 I needed to go to bed and by 8:00 that's EXACTLY where I was. Woke up this morning - thankful that all the people had gone to work and I wouldn't have to have ANOTHER party today.
I love sitting in the pool with my sissers - talking about our husbands - and how awkward it must be for them to walk around with those private parts between their legs all the time. They must feel ridiculous - which likely also explains why they do shit that makes no sense. Oh - and balls are ugly. Born ugly and just get worse with age. We decided if we had balls we'd castrate ourselves so we didn't have to have those ugly fuckers hanging around all the time. We also wear itsty bitsy bikinis we've hijacked from our daughter's rooms and prance around in them telling each other how amazing we look. No one is allowed to have body image issues in my pool - and no one is allowed to pass judgement or EVER say anything about anyone swimming at my house. It's the safe place. You comment on the suit - NOT the fact that the top looks more like a cumberband than a bra due to gravity and such. THAT SUIT IS CUTE!!!! Yep! It is! Thanks! Do you also like my stretch marks? I hadn't even noticed them and still can't see them. YAY!!!!
So today it's back to the grindstone - laundry, work, meetings, SOFTBALL. And I think I need to stay out of the pool. And away from the vodka. What if I were to fill the pool with vodka though..............
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Tweeting
So anyway - I have writer's block. It seems I can only think up shit to talk about in the middle of the night. I need to start writing it down though because I can never remember it the following morning - and it's some good shit let me tell you!
I have a twitter account now. I decided I needed one because that's where the kids have gone - and since I can no longer creep on them on Facebook, I decided to get a tweeter. So I opened it under an anonymous online screen name - but like an idiot, put in my real name, right? Then I followed my kids. And the brunette was all, "OMFG - seriously? WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?" Uhhh - how did you know it was me? And she turned her phone toward me and sure as shit - plain as day - there was my real full name under my anonymous tweeter name. DOH! #dumbass. So then I stopped following her because I decided she needed her privacy. But she kept following me - because I'm #fuckingawesome. But she was my only follower. And then I was just tweeting pretty much to myself - again - #dumbass. I guess she felt badly for me so she sent me an @message and suggested that all of HER friends follow me on tweeter ---- she's got a big heart like that - and now her friends ARE following me. And NOW the pressure is on to be funnier than a bunch of 16 year olds hyped up on hormones. And let me tell you - they're pretty damned funny! It's a tough act to follow.
If you want to follow me on tweeter - you can: I'm @thatsbsandunoit
Tweeting is fun! And it's not just for twits either! All that senseless bullshit I used to post on Facebook can now go on Twitter - YAY!!!
See you there!
I have a twitter account now. I decided I needed one because that's where the kids have gone - and since I can no longer creep on them on Facebook, I decided to get a tweeter. So I opened it under an anonymous online screen name - but like an idiot, put in my real name, right? Then I followed my kids. And the brunette was all, "OMFG - seriously? WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?" Uhhh - how did you know it was me? And she turned her phone toward me and sure as shit - plain as day - there was my real full name under my anonymous tweeter name. DOH! #dumbass. So then I stopped following her because I decided she needed her privacy. But she kept following me - because I'm #fuckingawesome. But she was my only follower. And then I was just tweeting pretty much to myself - again - #dumbass. I guess she felt badly for me so she sent me an @message and suggested that all of HER friends follow me on tweeter ---- she's got a big heart like that - and now her friends ARE following me. And NOW the pressure is on to be funnier than a bunch of 16 year olds hyped up on hormones. And let me tell you - they're pretty damned funny! It's a tough act to follow.
If you want to follow me on tweeter - you can: I'm @thatsbsandunoit
Tweeting is fun! And it's not just for twits either! All that senseless bullshit I used to post on Facebook can now go on Twitter - YAY!!!
See you there!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Return Post
It's been 3 months since I last posted (plus a few days)...I'm not sure why, exactly. But I'm amazed at how time does indeed fly. I think I got busy with work. Busy with life. Busy. A few of you have specifically asked me to start posting again - you'd be amazed at how good that makes me feel....someone cares enough about the ho-hum crap I ramble about to actually request that I continue to bore you with my prattling. So here I am! I'm not even sure where to pick up.
Since I last posted, we have replaced the roof on the house, replaced the kitchen floor, torn two bathrooms down to the studs and rebuilt them, sold that horrible 40' bus, painted the barn (RED!), stained the deck and Lord knows what else. There was the departing of some household possessions via garage sale in there as well. We visited Chicago for a few days and have attended I don't know how many softball games and tournaments. We've had visitors in from out of state, and keeping in the tradition of summer, our home has a revolving door for guests at all hours of the day and night and all days of the week. It's exhausting.
The house is FILLED with young people - people who sleep all day and play all night. To see them and interact with them, you must also keep these kind of hours - except that because you're also an adult, you have to be up all day also. I think I function on about 4 hours of sleep at this point and unfortunately, I think it's caught up to me. I'm tired this week. Tired of cooking. Tired of cleaning. Tired of playing. Tired of watching softball. Just TIRED. So all week I've gone to bed at 9 p.m. and slept until 7:30 a.m. and still have managed to get in a two hour nap each day. I hope I get rested soon, because the house is a wreck - no one else seems to know how to clean it. There are no ice cubes - no one else seems to know how to empty and refill the trays. The laundry is wrinkled - no one else seems to know how to fold clothes and put them away. And there is no food in the house - no one else seems to know where the store is.
I hear the husband in the kitchen now - - unloading the dishwasher. Heavy sighing with each glass he puts away. And all I want to do is yell... STFU! Seriously? His 40 year old brothers were the last visitors we had. I spent 4 days cleaning this house - steam cleaning carpets, scrubbing baseboards, washing walls. Preparing meals and cleaning up after everyone for 4 exhausting days after they arrived. Some mornings on 3 hours of sleep and likely still drunk. And never once did I heavy sigh. So you can just STFU and unload that dishwasher. God how I wish I had a band of sisters. The ones that would come visit me and stay with me. And during their stay, we would sit on our asses and wait for food to be delivered to us. And each morning we would wake up to a sparkling clean house and a beautiful spread of fruit and pastries. And all we would have to do is sit there and gab and periodically ask when the next meal would be served.
Ba ha ha ha!! Yeh RIGHT.
Since I last posted, we have replaced the roof on the house, replaced the kitchen floor, torn two bathrooms down to the studs and rebuilt them, sold that horrible 40' bus, painted the barn (RED!), stained the deck and Lord knows what else. There was the departing of some household possessions via garage sale in there as well. We visited Chicago for a few days and have attended I don't know how many softball games and tournaments. We've had visitors in from out of state, and keeping in the tradition of summer, our home has a revolving door for guests at all hours of the day and night and all days of the week. It's exhausting.
The house is FILLED with young people - people who sleep all day and play all night. To see them and interact with them, you must also keep these kind of hours - except that because you're also an adult, you have to be up all day also. I think I function on about 4 hours of sleep at this point and unfortunately, I think it's caught up to me. I'm tired this week. Tired of cooking. Tired of cleaning. Tired of playing. Tired of watching softball. Just TIRED. So all week I've gone to bed at 9 p.m. and slept until 7:30 a.m. and still have managed to get in a two hour nap each day. I hope I get rested soon, because the house is a wreck - no one else seems to know how to clean it. There are no ice cubes - no one else seems to know how to empty and refill the trays. The laundry is wrinkled - no one else seems to know how to fold clothes and put them away. And there is no food in the house - no one else seems to know where the store is.
I hear the husband in the kitchen now - - unloading the dishwasher. Heavy sighing with each glass he puts away. And all I want to do is yell... STFU! Seriously? His 40 year old brothers were the last visitors we had. I spent 4 days cleaning this house - steam cleaning carpets, scrubbing baseboards, washing walls. Preparing meals and cleaning up after everyone for 4 exhausting days after they arrived. Some mornings on 3 hours of sleep and likely still drunk. And never once did I heavy sigh. So you can just STFU and unload that dishwasher. God how I wish I had a band of sisters. The ones that would come visit me and stay with me. And during their stay, we would sit on our asses and wait for food to be delivered to us. And each morning we would wake up to a sparkling clean house and a beautiful spread of fruit and pastries. And all we would have to do is sit there and gab and periodically ask when the next meal would be served.
Ba ha ha ha!! Yeh RIGHT.
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