Glad to be Home

For the third time, it rained all the way home.  Everyone is still alive.  But, what I would like to know is, how can one man get so many dishes dirty in just two days?  Then he says he ate right before I got in and doesn’t want supper.  So I’m sitting at the computer around 5:30 and he asks what’s for dinner.  And he wonders why I’m always threatening to beat him to death.  Now I’m not sure I’m glad to be home.  If I can get up off my dead ass, I’ll take baby sweater pictures tomorrow.

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