Oh God Get Me Out of Here

Friday was the 10th wedding anniversary of the The Divine Mrs. M and me. To work in various work, divorce, and travel schedules our extended family was having Thanksgiving this weekend. The Divine and I thought that we'd ask the kid's grandparents to watch them while she and I had a nice dinner and then stayed in a local hotel.

First, problem. Ft. Wayne - the town I grew up in - doesn't have much to do. At least for us. There ain't crap here. And it's not like we come from an exciting cosmopolitian city now. We live in Cincinnati!

I took Friday off work so we could travel early. So of course, 4-year old Harper began puking on cue about midnight Thursday. We cancelled anniversary plans for another time and drove the 3.5 hours to Ft. Wayne on Saturday. Had a Thanksgiving Dinner at my sisters. Kids went home early with the grandparents, then the Divine started puking. We made it home to have Dagny greet up with puking. I'm puked out.

Harper, the instigator of all this, is bouncing off the walls, I have Dagny drugged out of her 8-year old mind, and Alicia is snoozing up in my old bedroom and I'm sitting in my mothers sewing room feeling my stomach begin to flutter with a 3.5 hour drive ahead of me.

I'm too tired to comment on articles I've gotten published today. There's three: Here's one in the Enquirer about a local family giving NKU basketball gift. Here's one a new credit report law and here's another on a local theatre troupe.

I still have about two hours of work tonight for the Enquirer. Think I'll make it?

Stay You.
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