Thursday, May 1, 2008

Everything is Under Control

Dear The Mister,

You are probably reading this in a nondescript hotel room in Atlanta, Georgia. How's that going? Are you having fun on your second long business trip in one month? If I was a counting girl I would probably bring up that between your business trips, client dinners, business parties, and late nights at work you have been gone more than you were here in the month of April. Lucky for you, I am totally not a counting girl. Not. At. All.

Things around here are great! Super!! I do believe the second your plane left the ground 83,000 people from Craigslist emailed me that they need to see our various items for sale RIGHT NOW. Naturally, they were all males with emails like, "Larry_the_Love_Man[at]" or "Beer-n-Bitches[at]" They seemed really interested and should be here around 6:00pm. Wish me luck!

Mikey decided last night that his stomach hurt so bad that he needed to go to the hospital. I offered him chocolate instead. He was happy with the outcome, and so was I. I could be wrong, but I don't think his stomach was really hurting him.

This Could be a Problem

Oops! I almost forgot. We had a little incident with your computer. It was totally Nicholas' fault, but I have to give the little guy credit for figuring out how to open your computer, rip out half the keys, and then close it again all before I reentered the room. I thought it was really cute the way he was tossing these things in the air like confetti until I was, like, "Hey, we don't have confetti. What are those things?" So I took a closer look and then was, like, "Oh, SHIT!" and I dropped to the floor and was rolling around with Nicholas trying to pry from his pudgy death grip the letter Q and the Shift key when Mikey came around the corner, took one look at me giving Nicholas a half-nelson and was all "Wrestling! So fun!! Me, too, Mama!"

As much as I would have loved to wrestle with Mikey, it just wasn't the time. You understand, right? I felt a little guilty because instead of wrestling I looked up at Mikey, wild-eyed, and screeched, "Mikey! You have GOT to help me get these little pieces away from Nico or daddy is going to be really mad at mama because NICHOLAS broke his computer." And then Mikey looked at me full of pity and calmly walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Mama. Relax. It's ok. We'll just call Handy Manny. He can fix anything."

Of course! Why didn't I think of that?! That's exactly what we needed: an animated Wilmer Valderrama and talking tools. So I bit the bullet and made the long distance phone call to Sheet Rock Hills. Manny said he would be here sometime between Larry and Ruben (that's Beer and Bitches), but I might have to call him off because I have most of the keys already put back. So you see, I have everything under control and there is nothing for you to worry about. I mean, well, I guess if you had to worry about something--you know, if you were so inclined--it's that I can't find the letter S. But, again, totally not something for you to worry about. I'm pretty sure it's either under the sofa or just rounding the curve in Nicholas' duodenum. If it's under the sofa it will be back in place by tonight. If it's in the smaller intestines, well, it will most like be in place within 24 to 48 hours. Either way, plenty of time before you get home! Honestly, I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I bet you would have never known anything was amiss.

OK, that's it. Not much else to report. Pretty boring, really. I'll talk to you later. Have a safe flight, and I'll see you when you get home. You know, right before you leave again to go play golf with your dad. Just saying.

The Mrs.