The one where my sister is no longer allowed to talk to me*

*About our father.  While I am eating.



Yesterday was a long day here in Mamaville.  I worked at the church in the morning, with Mini Monster "helping" me by running a very loud and annoying battery-operated train on the desk.  And demanding snacks and juice about every 0.00001 seconds.  After church, I had a couple of hours at home before heading off to Job B, the adoption agency gig.  I was doing the final home study visit for a really great couple and I enjoyed the visit immensely.

On the drive home, I called my sister.  It's about a 45-minute drive, so I figured we could visit a while.  Well, the conversation turned to our father and we once again started trying to figure out how we came from such a dysfunctional bunch of crap and still turned out to be good people not serial killers.  Because this is a topic that we tend to go on and on with, the call lasted until I got home, made a quick dinner of leftovers (it was 10:00pm and both my man beasts had already eaten) and continued while I chowed down.

Fast forward to 3:00 this morning...I am on my knees, head inside the porcelain, praying for death to come swiftly.  I have no idea what it was, but as soon as my body was done sending it back I felt fine.  I'm SURE you wanted to hear all about me retching forth everything but my toenails and a snack I had in first grade, but hey...I felt like sharing.

It's not MY fault.  Tell my sister not to discuss our father while I'm eating and I promise not to do it again!!