I’ll often have well-meaning people ask me if we have big plans for the weekend. I understand and appreciate the question, and even ask it myself sometimes. However, sometimes, despite how much I treasure my family, it just seems cruelly ironic. Plans? Who am I, Jay Gatsby? “Let me see. . .oh, yeah. check this out: Friday night, the plan is to keep 4 crazy humans alive until bed time. And Saturday the weather’s supposed to be really nice, so my wife and I were thinking about trying to keep 4 crazy humans alive at the park. And then Sunday, we’ll most likely try not to lose our religion as we try to keep 4 crazy humans alive and dressed on the way to church. Oh, and we’ve taped the season premier of Curious George, so we’re all very excited about that. It’s been a whole 6.25 hours since I’ve seen a George. Just hoping to keep 4 humans alive for that. Oh, and we have a dog, so, add one to everything I’ve just said. So, that’s what we’ve got going on.”
The Thread 