...There ain't one. Once I got past my late start (lil' sluggish this morning... but the beauty of tequila is no hangover... just fuzziness) I spent the day cleaning. I did pretty good, too. The pile that was growing on top of my flat file is pretty much gone, and the cat hair all got vacuumed. The pile on my desk was gone till I moved the pile that was on the floor onto the desk. So my desk still looks messy but there isn't crap on the floor. I got a ton of very old Print mags and various catalogues bundled up and out of the house.
Then I had to run out to the grocery store, and then cook dinner, and in the meantime I did loads and loads of laundry and changed the bedclothes. Little boy Sun had some homework (not much at all) but he never got to practicing his violin.
Ironic; I was just thinking of writing something about the Sun and his dad, when late night TV mags just flashed something about that friggin' Alec Baldwin.
The Sun is giving me a really hard time about calling his dad. He keeps saying it's because he misses him, and that he'd rather see him than talk to him. I keep telling him he's got to call his dad and tell him that. I finally had to tell him today, in no uncertain terms, that he *had* to call his dad. I hated doing it, because I never wanted calling his father to be a "chore" or something he was ordered to do.
But honestly, this court date is beginning to loom, and I'm starting to get nervous. I *know* this is going to come up. And what do I say? He called his dad at bedtime and was on the phone less than a minute.
It's stressing me.