Ciera got accepted into the Duke Tip program yesterday, which only takes the top 5% of each grade. Best I can tell this is going to cost me about $40 a month and entails her and one of her parents attending a summer camp this year; that said, I couldn't be prouder.
Rakes was actually good every day at playschool this week, got his obligatory sticker, and his choice out of the prize box. First time for everything I guess.
Trot took a 2 1/2 hour nap today without wearing a diaper and didn't cause Ang to change his sheets, the comforter, and have to have his room re-carpeted. If I can get him out of diapers I may be able to buy that 2 litre bottle of Mt Dew yet.
I've got to sleep in my bed and not the couch for over a month, we're going out on a date come Saturday, and Ang left me a sweet note in my lunch every day this week but today. (I grabbed a tv dinner in her defense, so there really wasn't any reason to write me anything.)
David Wells is threatening bodily harm to Joe Torre for writing this book everyone is in a snit over, along with the Yankees contemplating a clause in future contracts that basically say "You can't say anything bad about us or we'll sue you, take your house, and make sure you finish your days destitute and in constant ridicule."
Is it any wonder I keep waiting for an asteroid to hit my house, IRS agents showing up at my door, and Ang to call me at work and tell me the pipes just burst?
My luck can't continue to be this good.
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