Atomictumor

Came in the mail today, all with BJ’s name one em.  There were so many, our insurance company stuck em in the big envelope they use for sending out the policy handbooks and stuff.  Not a one of em, so far (and it looked like they ranged from 11/3 to 11/11, and included her ER doc, Surgeon, PCU doc, and a whole buncha people I haven’t heard of) wanted money from me.  Rock on, health insurance (and its even an HMO, take that, Canada!).

Today’s been full of good stuff like that.

A highlight of the day was when Eaves, Lugnut, Pigpen, and I were out running errands before the big kids got home.  We picked up a copy of the Oak Ridge Observer, and saw that Stan Mitchell had put a big point headline on top of the obit I wrote.  B.J. Kilpatrick, in the biggest newspaper headline she’ll ever be in.

That was really cool.

I went to the bank with Pigpen prior to that, and he got two balloons.  He is fun.

MastaG and I went through BJ’s t-shirts to see if any fit him.  One or two of the tighter ones do (although he doesn’t fill them out nearly as well as BJ did), and we put them in the back of the closet to keep.  Well, we ended up kinda keeping all of the t-shirts.  Theres always room for t-shirts, eh?

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Pigpen is moping around.  During the course of this post, I have read 3 books, had 5 books read to me, had food requested of me twice, been whined at once, and pouted at once.  He has run me from the couch with eye-burning flatulence.   He has yawned about 200 times, and now hinks its time to go to bed.  I don’t really hink its time.  (Pigpen doesn’t think, he hinks, you see).

He is now going to draw.  I have turned the HEPA filter on, and aimed it in the general direction of his butt.

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Tomorrow is barreling down on me.  The boys are going to spend the night with BJ’s folks, which everybody’s looking forward to, and I be here.  With no clue what to do with myself.  I don’t think I’m into hanging out with friends, but I also don’t think I’m into moping about the house either.

Ah well, something will come to me.  Maybe I’ll drive around.

Pigpen is now holding up a pen and telling me, in a way of words that would make our fearless leader proud “This is going to get more draw.”   He then says it 4 more times.  Each time, I tell him I don’t know what he’s talking about.  Finally, he sat down to draw, saying “I don’t understand.”

No doubt, kid.  No doubt.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 30th, 2006 at 7:41 pm and is filed under Kids, Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.