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March 22, 2009
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Our good friends, Sara and Phil, unexpectedly dropped by last night for a visit. We typically have quality conversations but when there’s a hole, we all stare at the baby and thus circumvent acknowledging the awkward gap. (This was an unexpected side benefit of procreating.)

However, J was just on his way to bed when they popped in AND they had to wade through piles of household debris and remnants of our travels in order to clear a space on our couch to make themselves at home – which is hard to do when you find yourself in what appears to be a landfill. I admit I worried for the life of our conversation. I tried to pay attention and make meaningful contributions but my focus kept shifting to the used Kleenex beside Sara’s elbow. I told myself that their coffee table probably has cheerios and chewed up receipts all over it too so it’s not THAT big of a deal. Then Sara mentioned that last week Phil had cleaned every square inch of the house while she was away and even her spice jars had been spit polished. Dammit.

Anyway, the subject of this post is not my filthy house. The subject of this post is Phil’s anger toward the fact that I refer to my son and husband by their initials instead of their real names on this blog. I didn’t ask why – he seemed pretty upset. So in a last ditch effort to save our friendship, and to give Sara and Phil one less reason never to come to our house again, “J” will now appear as James and “D” as J.D.  If someone decides to open a puppy mill in our names, I will re-examine the issue. If you were also upset by the initials, you may send your thanks to Phil. (Whom I will hereon in refer to as “P”)

4 Comments leave one →
  1. Jean permalink
    March 23, 2009 3:17 am

    Yay, Phil. I was living in fear of the day I would be referred to by my grandson as ‘G’.

  2. Colleen permalink
    March 23, 2009 2:39 pm

    I’m diggin’ the new format and the daily updates – what a brave commitment! I’ve missed mumologic over the past few weeks.


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