Let’s get this weekend out of the way:
And now the Filthy Padawan has a cold. Coincidence? No, it's Karma, baby, Karma.
My friend Anne tried to give me some parenting advice. She Who is Without Children asked me, "But have you sat down the Filthy Padawan and explained to him how this is unacceptable? He needs to know that! Just sit him down and explain to him that he needs to stop." I, who was also a better parent before I had children, said graciously and with a knowing twinkle, "Yes, we have tried that."
Monday I was sitting at my desk trying hard to concentrate on my work. I was a little in the dumps, missing the babies and thinking through some projects which are giving me a mental block. I had a case of the Mondays.
And then, out of the deep reaches of cyber space, I got an email with the subject
Contents included this:
Those are my hawt sisters, Jeffiner and LaQuina.
Who doesn’t like sisters? Nobody doesn’t like sisters, or is that Sara Lee?
Obviously, the next question I needed to ask was,
“Is Jeffiner flashing a sign? Do we even have a family gang sign?”
I guess we do.
I love those chollas. Apparently, they love La Virgin.
Jeffiner works for Hotel Conglomerate. She will answer the phone when you call Hotel Conglomerate. I called her tonight…
“Thank you for calling Hotel Conglomerate, this is Jeffiner, how may I direct your call?”
“You can direct it up your butt,” I said.
She started laughing so hard that she put me on hold.
I can call her and say things like that, but you can’t.
That’s what sisters are for.