The Fox And The Squirrel

I must be brief, because we are leaving in about an hour to go see Jerry Seinfeld at the Fabulous Fox. My sister and her husband the mayor are going with us in separate cars. That's because they are unencumbered by leeching children who demand feeding and supervision every minute of every day. They plan to make a day of it, dine in an actual restaurant, and make a leisurely trip to the Fox. We are waiting for St. Grandma to arrive to tend out spawn into the late hours of the night.

HH just brought those children home from bowling. I have been relaxing at home by doing laundry and ignoring the dishes piled next to the sink. Have I ever mentioned that we don't have a dishwasher? I bet even George Obama, on his $12 per year income and 6' x 9' shack, has a dishwasher. And he can afford weed, too.

The dogs have been barking their fool heads off at people walking up the road. Never mind that when someone comes up the driveway, they are mute. Perhaps they are nervous that someone is going to take that huge dead gray squirrel that they have on the front porch. I suppose it's better than the two chickens they had in the front yard.

Maybe I'll have a tale to tell about Jerry tomorrow.