Please note broom in lower right corner. I’d just gotten through sweeping all the dog’s hair from under the couch while the outnumbered males in the household were chillin’. Normally I would have wedged myself between them and joined the discussion on the importance of a short game and The Freak’s many issues (yes, they were toggling back and forth between channels. This makes my head pop off my shoulders) but earlier I was busy reading Gone Girl, by Gillian Lynch, and therefore didn’t get around to Cinderella’s chores!
This book has gotten a ton of press, and rightly so. Aside from the fact that it’s an accomplished and riveting thriller, the characters are so nuanced and familiar it’s scary. And here’s what I mean: you will recognize in the story people you know, or to whom you’ve spoken – even briefly – and you might have reason to wonder, is that person a sociopath? Basically, a man’s wife goes missing in a small Missouri town. He’s a suspect, naturally, but he also – metaphorically – shoots himself in foot while trying to defend himself and search for his wife. I can’t say much more here without giving away significant details, but it’s a fine summer reading choice. Keep your hotel light on, though.
This past weekend we were at the Emergency Room again. Yvette managed to bend back her index finger diving for a sinking liner to left field. They had to cut off her glove. The first responder in the crowd was an enormous guy with camo pants (capri style!), a backwards baseball cap and black socks with tennis shoes. He was awesome and very reassuring. And he was carrying three ice bags. Later, down the road, we hit up a new Emergency Room. The recovering addicts were a different sort; I’m 90% sure one of them hit on my daughter. We were lucky once again because it will probably not be too bad and we do have insurance. For The Son’s prior concussion, our bill (before the insurance paid 80%) was $41,000 – not including doctor fees. That’s right people. Go plant the money tree right now.