Father's Day
Father's Day morning at my parent's house, drinking hot microwaved coffee and watching VH1 Classics (awesome channel that I don't get at home in the 'Zone). Mom is upstairs in Frenzied Martyr mode, so it's best to stay away. Pops is starting to push the buttons, and pretty soon someone is going to snap. This is all normal schtick for them, but I'm glad I moved out when I did.
I got my father a Bill Clinton bio for Dad's Day-- not his autobiography, some other thing, per suggestion of my mother. Let's see if my sister got him the exact same thing, and if so, who will be blamed for it?
My three year-old twin nephews will be making their scheduled appearance today. One of them likes to say that he's going to "marry a boy" when he gets older (much to his dad's chagrin) and the other likes to reach into his traning pants, pull out his turds and smear them into the rug in protest of my sister's heavy-handed potty training regiment. Well, they make things interesting, I gotta give them that.
I must get home as early as possible today to do a load of laundrey-- my sheets are starting to stick to my sleeping body and my clothes are capable of riding the A Train by themselves at this point.
Getting summoned for assistance. Happy Dad's Day, all...