Our hot water heater died yesterday. A mere hour before the big home made pizza fest. So I didn't get to take a shower yesterday or this morning. Matt the cheerful German plumber is installing a new one as I type, but I doubt he'll finish up within 15 minutes, which is the cut off for my getting to take a nice hot shower before going out to dinner at semi-fancy
¡Sombrero! with Pride Parade-shunning Godfather M and his mother. Hopefully the restaurant is not too crowded, but if it is perhaps my stench will gain us some space (kidding! I will take a cold shower if I have to. Lord knows Seymour's had enough of them since Mali's birth).
The hot water heater death was timed beautifully, as the kitchen sink's cold water was already turned off from a botched reverse osmosis water purifier installation (the purifier was missing several pieces from one of its packets, which we didn't discover until the device was 90% in place). This means that the pizza making dirtied most of the dishes, bowls, and implements in a kitchen that had no running water. Seymour somehow wrestled the kitchen into cleanliness with boiled water and sheer willpower.
Full week of Japan-refugee cousin Guggster initiated gluttony: steaks, Indian, Mexican, ribs, ending on dim sum. Dim sum was in the morning, that night was Fathers Day, so then Thai for dinner. Monday I cooked, but Tuesday pizza at Jo's, Wednesday tired and out for Indian with Babysitter A, Thursday bad mom coffee and Kokkari, Friday Korean in SJ with Seymour and India to cheer him up, then yesterday pizzas and tonight French. I may need never eat again.
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