My dalliance with TurboTax has set me back this weekend. I ran out of time to complete the entire week's worth of laundry. I am neglecting my little corner of the blog world. But I refuse to miss my Sunday night TV. It's Amazing Race night, you know. And crazy celebrities making fools of themselves to amuse Donald Trump.
The #1 son is a working man. He has some unofficial off-the-record intermittent jobs to keep himself in fast-food money. After church, he spent the afternoon at the bowling alley/Family Fun Center, troubleshooting the automatic scoring machine for simpletons. At 5:30, he had a lawn to mow. He has three different lawns right now, and a lead on a few more. Anything that gets him out of bed before noon this summer is fine with me.
The Pony has rediscovered his Nintendo DS. Not the fancy new 3-D one, but the one he had stuffed in a case full of games. Actually, there are two cases full of games. Thank the Gummi Mary, Over-Stepping-His-Bounds H didn't give them all away. He has to be watched closely.
This morning at 4:50 A.-freakin'-M., the King Of All Schedules H informed me that if I wanted more sleep, I should go to bed at a reasonable hour, just like he told #1. So I can arise at 4:50 A.-freakin'-M. on a Sunday, like the rest of the world, it seems.