It’s been a good day. I had lunch with two of my sisters, got to see Julie & Julia and now want buy Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and the only meal I prepared involved peeling bananas and pouring a bowl of cereal. Then tonight James pooped a massive poo in the tub (“At least you hadn’t put the bath toys in yet,” said Michael). And John drank three glasses of water and promptly threw up, though thankfully a little over half of it landed in the toilet.
I have no idea why I feel this is important enough to communicate here. Depending on your perspective the message is either “Kids Ruin Everything: Use Birth Control” or “Don’t Let A Little Poop and Barf Get You Down.” That’s you’re call. I’m off to find a beer.