I know, I know, it’s late. Sorry. Anyway, heeere we go!
Bryans Parents: Thanks for the sterling silverware set. I’ve got spoons, forks, knives and shit. And shit, what are we going to do with this stuff? His mom, bless ‘er heart, said “Y’know, in case you guys make a nice dinner or something.” Um, have you been to dinner at our house? It resembles feeding time at the zoo. Goodness, I feel a sense of accomplishment if I have more than one side dish. Oh well. Thank you, Bryans Parents.
Joe: Thank you, sincerely, for watching Her Royal Highness, Princess Pissy Pants today. I’m sorry we didn’t realize until Friday afternoon that daycare was closed. Of course, Bryan couldn’t take off work because he’s already running on a skeleton crew. I couldn’t because my Regional VP is in town. Thank you, Joe.
Regional VP: Dude, seriously. You freak everyone out by saying you’re going to be in town on Monday and Tuesday. I stayed late Friday night to catch up a report, even. Only for you to call at the eleventh hour saying you’re not coming, you need to work on something else. It’s like having a stay of execution.You know it’s going to happen eventually, and you just want to get it over with yet you’re happy you get some more time. Either way, it’s enough to make a person drink they’re lunch. Thank you, Regional VP.
Payroll: Hey, thanks guys. I get my paycheck way late, and even then, it’s screwed up. Now, I don’t know about all you upper muckety-mucks over there in snooty Connecticut, but over in my world there are a few things I’ve come to rely on. One is my paycheck being on time. The second one is being correct. I know, I’m weird like that, aren’t I? Then you guys get mad that I had the audacity to cash it. Uh, yeah, because I still have bills to pay. I can’t wait the week it takes for you guys to reissue a corrected check. Sorry. I cannot believe you guys actually have degrees. Thank you, Payroll.
Pooker: I know it’s not your fault, but dang girl. The whole weekend, you’ve been a pooping machine. What’s really fun is getting peed on in the mall and walking around with pee on me. And then Sunday morning, you were sitting on my lap, babbling happily. Then I smelled something so rank, so utterly disgusting, I was convinced the dog had died. Nope. You had exploded up your back, down your legs, andall over me. And they say the best part of waking up is Folgers. Silly marketing people. Thank you, Pooker.
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