The Happiest Place in the World Is My Own Bed

Back! So fucking happy to be back! Will write details tomorrow! (Cha! Scoffs anyone who reads here regularly.)

Teaser detail: Do not teach your autistic son to use his grandparents' elevator. Otherwise, the moment your back is turned, he will dash into the elevator, slam the door shut, and set it in motion--and you will have no option but to pray like hell that he will choose to open the elevator door when he reaches the other floor. Which, thankfully he will do. No need to tell your spouse about this incident until your blood thaws enough for your heart to restart beating, which will take about 24 hours.

Tomorrow morning, Thursday morning, Friday morning, I have absolutely free! Leelo will be in session at home (my Gods is he happy to be home). No stupid fucking baby music classes, no reading with Iz's charming but monosyllabic classmates, NOTHING. Except hanging out with Mali, of course (Iz is still in Seattle with her gparents). I may even have tomorrow and Thursday afternoons free, with no Iz- or Leelo-picking up to suck all the air and energy out of me. Friday afternoon may be similarly boundless as well, though Iz will be back by then.

So many possibilities. One thing I know for damn sure, though, is that I am getting me an egg breakfast at Bucket's tomorrow. 9 A.M. Who's with me?

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