Poor Darin. He has to put up with a meowing wife. I lie on the floor and sing, "Meow, meow, meow meow." I do this a lot. It's not a sex thing, in case you're wondering -- I just meow from time to time. One time we were driving in the car and I said, "Our kids are going to be so embarrassed. They'll be in the backseat and say, 'Dad! Mom's meowing again!'" Darin looked at me and said, "Obviously you have no idea how kids are. We'll get a chorus from the back: 'Meow, meow, meow meow.'"
We went to visit my parents today. My parents were both in really good moods, interested in hearing about USC (each of them asked me about how it was going), and didn't fight at all.
I noted that in her tour of the house to show us all the tidying and changing she's been doing, my mother did not show us the basement. Coincidence? Or would I have found pods down there?
I know, I shouldn't make those jokes. I haven't seen them in a long time and they were both wonderful today.
(In other words: Do not taunt happy fun mom.)
I asked Darin to help me work out the ideas for the exercises I have to write up this week. We went to dinner and tossed around ideas. He had some good ones, and he elaborated or modified some of mine. He's a wonderful sounding board, and a good editor too. He knows me and my tastes so well too.
How 'bout that wacky presidential debate? We heard the opening statements and the closing statements, the rest taken up by dinner.
I don't know what the commentators said, but it sure sounded like Clinton won from the get-go.
My Dad said he can't stand either Clinton or Dole and isn't going to vote for either one, so I guess he's going to vote for Perot. He said he hopes that Clinton will actually do something about health care this next term -- without putting Hillary in charge. I don't think Bubba's going to put Hillary in charge of anything next term.