So, Larry and Gus are home for the summer. And Larry's been writing and recording a whole bunch of new songs in the home studio, while Gus plays the kazoo and tambourine and occasionally shouts, "Nonuts," eerily in tune with the guitar.
But there's more. Today I come home from work, pull into the driveway, and step out of my vehicle. An herb garden with fresh mulch and bright yellow marigolds has been planted.
I walk inside.
The kitchen floor? It is clean.
The dishes? Done.
The groceries? Bought and put away.
The laundry? In the dryer with a mountain fresh freakin' fabric softener sheet.
The pork roast? In the oven.
The baby? Not only alive, but happier, and I think smarter, than when I left him this morning.
The husband? Acting like it ain't no thing.
All of this from a man who, one Christmas Eve day, was asked to clean the toilet, just clean the guest toilet with bleach before people arrive. A man who cleaned the toilet with bleach, but got distracted, went to change a CD, and never returned to wipe OFF the bleach, thus resulting in me bleaching a ring around my ass and screaming highly unchristian obscenities just as the first guests arrived on our front porch.
The summer? ... PLEASE don't let it end.
But there's more. Today I come home from work, pull into the driveway, and step out of my vehicle. An herb garden with fresh mulch and bright yellow marigolds has been planted.
I walk inside.
The kitchen floor? It is clean.
The dishes? Done.
The groceries? Bought and put away.
The laundry? In the dryer with a mountain fresh freakin' fabric softener sheet.
The pork roast? In the oven.
The baby? Not only alive, but happier, and I think smarter, than when I left him this morning.
The husband? Acting like it ain't no thing.
All of this from a man who, one Christmas Eve day, was asked to clean the toilet, just clean the guest toilet with bleach before people arrive. A man who cleaned the toilet with bleach, but got distracted, went to change a CD, and never returned to wipe OFF the bleach, thus resulting in me bleaching a ring around my ass and screaming highly unchristian obscenities just as the first guests arrived on our front porch.
The summer? ... PLEASE don't let it end.
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