Boring Can Be Fun

You know how it is when it's the end of the day, you're ready to pick up your kid from daycare and get thee to your humble abode.  Well, you know how it is if you:  a) have at least one child and,  b) use day care.  If you have only one or none of those two things, then you probably don't  know how it is. But you're smart, and you can use your imagination to pretend you know, right? Right. Now that we've agreed that you either know how it is or you're capable of pretending to know how it is, walk with me through the rest of this story. The story that you're wondering if I'm going to actually get around to or not. And if I do ever get around to it, is it going to be worth the 120-180 seconds of your life that it took to read it? Only you can decide. Okay, okay, so, the tale I'm still not exactly telling. I'll tell it now. With no exaggeration whatsoever. As you may have surmised, it begins with me at the end of the work day, ready to ...

It's been a while since I've shared a pointless story with you, hasn't it? Well, lucky you, that's all about to change. Friday afternoon I left work early. It was the day of the FSU @ Boston College game, and hours before my sister's (early) 30th (THIRTIETH!!!!!!!!) birthday dinner. Plans:  Pick up sister's gift and b uy groceries. Go home and prep as much as possible. Collect spouse and child and drive to Perry. Throw party in my sister's own house. Try to prevent her from working, since she has some rogue gene that makes it nearly impossible for her to just. sit. and. relax. (I think maybe I got my share AND her share of that particular DNA.) Things went basically to plan (a small miracle in itself). Got to my sister's house. Prepped. Chopped. Set things out. Got sister to make tea. (She hates tea, but magically makes the most delicious tea, so... sorry not sorry.) People come over. We chill. We eat. We watch kids be silly and we watch foo...