Last night I was feeding my news junkie fix, reading about the misery in Haiti, when D2 told me to put my pants on. I remove them when I come home each night, lest they become streaked with Basset Hound slobber. I then spend my time home, Homer Simpson-like, in my attractive underwear.
I complied with D2's request, in order to greet her friend Andrea, apparently home for the 3 day MLK weekend. There was Andrea, on the front porch, holding pizza, and looking happy to be in the 305. "I have a surprise," she said.
And there, behind her, was D1 with her puppy MAdeline! They decided to come home for the weekend, too.
We were thrilled, of course. If there's a better surprise than seeing your college daughter on your front porch, happy and excited to be home, I don't know what it is.
So, as I write, she's sleeping in. D2 is at school, and Wifey and I are about to walk the full pack of dogs.
I was planning on going to the office today, to move piles of paper around my desk, but now I'm not too sure...
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