Last week was all discombobulated. The Young Prince missed some school. I worked weird hours so I could run some errands, like drop off the Fun Car for its annual $800 repair job. This year it was tie rods, bearings, and a fuel line the dang squirrels ate. (Sigh. I suppose it's really time to unload that thing on someone who will treat it with the year-round love it deserves. That, or kit out the undercarriage with all kinds of squirrel-killing devices. Maybe both.) We also made a Costco run, which is always sort of an ordeal, and we cleaned out the house and dumped a metric ton of toys and clothes at Goodwill. Next weekend, we tackle the garage. Pray for us.
In much more exciting news, Not Your Average Blogger officially sealed his second book deal, so that was cause for celebration, and will be a preoccupation for the coming year. (And might get him out of cleaning said garage, lucky man.)
In the middle of all this fell the 17th anniversary of when NYAB and I first met. He made reservations for us to have dinner at one of our favorite places (The Rail Stop, in The Plains, in case you're ever nearby), and then we came home and watched movies. Short of throwing in a nap, I really couldn't have asked for a better anniversary date. I laugh harder, have more fun, and learn more sitting around my (now clean) house with NYAB and the YP than I do anywhere else.
May everyone I know be even half as lucky as I am.
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