I Should Be Doing Dishes...

...but I'm watching Maurice do his best William H. Macy impression, instead. (Think Pleasantville: "Where's my dinner?"

I should be doing laundry, but I'm blogging. In an attempt to avoid cliche, I did manage to get dressed yesterday and the day before, but somehow this dreary Thursday never got me out of my jammies, despite an 8:30 AM visit from a friend passing through town on business. I should defrost something for dinner.

Now Maurice is chasing his tail. Endlessly amusing. Where's Amelie, you might ask? No, I didn't give her away to the gypsies. She's sleeping at my feet under the dining room table. Or at least she was, until I actually thought about her, thus waking the demon who possesses her.

So far, so good on the parenting front. I'm accepting my new roll as Milchlastwagen (are there tshirts?), and Mark is being great, helping, worrying, doing all the Dad-type stuff. It's pretty cute.

Funny how on a dark, rainy day time passes more slowly...