Sedona Part II: The Weeping. Yes, it sounds like a horror film because it kind of was…for The Better Half. I am a poor flyer and by this I mean I seriously think the plane will go down every single time I am on one. Coming back from Sedona I had four cocktails, two before the flight (Daughters to dad: “Where did mom go?” Dad: “Um, she was thirsty.”) and two on the flight. They did nothing except make the weeping messier. I know this is not something positive to admit about oneself but I have no shame. The exhausted Better Half got stuck holding me and wrenching from my fists the tiny, empty rum bottles. Thankfully my daughters did not need to be rescued from a burning aircraft. Pretty sure I would have been useless.
New subject: below is a picture of our laundry. This is not all of it. Some of this was excavated from one of my daughter’s set of drawers (you know who you are). But, in case the visual aid is not enough, here is a list of what came out of there: 7 bras, one small collapsible suitcase, a set of sheets (twin), two sweatshirts belonging to the Better Half, 5 t-shirts belonging to her brother (“I knew it”), a pair of slippers, 47 t-shirts which I don’t recall buying, 6 pairs of jeans, two of which belong to her twin, 21 unmatched socks, 13 pairs of underwear, 3 belts, a visor from a little league team when she was 9, 8 football jerseys with players’ names, most of whom were traded to some other team during the Bush Administration).