Making Chit-Chat at the Panera on Mischief Morning

Middle-aged Woman in the Police Boosters Sweatshirt: Wow. I really like your EMS jacket. Did you know that what you're wearing is an EMS jacket?

The Girl: (shrugging) I know it's a paramedic's coat.

M-aWitPBS: Great! And I really like how it has those reflective stripes. See those? Those stripes help you to be seen in the dark.

The Girl: (eyeing up the pumpkin muffin that I've just bought her) Uh-huh.

M-aWitPBS: (to me) You know what I hate? When dark-skinned people walk around in dark clothes, because, you know, you can't see them at all.

Me: (swallowing audibly) Hmmm. Well. Come on, kids, let's go eat these muffins, huh?

168

We go to a concert. I stand in the same spot for many hours, wondering, as I make my exit, if I'll ever walk without pain again. The drive home is long but uneventful. We play a dirty alphabet game, each of us trying to think of the filthiest, funniest words we can. At Q, I am stumped: The best that I can come up with is Qweef, and I'm not even sure that Queef starts with a Q. In any case, they give it to me. For C, Thom chooses cocksucker; for V, Joe goes with vulva. When we get home, finally, at almost 2:30, The Girl is awake and pink with fever. I bring her to my bed. She coos at the cat. The loveliness of purring and flannel pajamas.

Sold!

After 11 short and frightfully stressful days, our little house is under contract. No one, I can assure you, is more surprised than we are. If all goes well with the home inspection, we will move into our new house, in lovely Lutherville, on December 3. Though we love our house, it is VERY small and unimproved, and I never in a million years thought we'd get two bids in under two weeks. Housing market crash, my ass.

To the left, for your enjoyment, is a picture of our living room from the online listing, complete with The Boy asleep on the couch.

Just for the record, I asked the agent/photographer if she wanted me to move him, and she said no, that nobody would ever notice.

Do you notice?

Did I mention that the new house has closets? Actual closets. And you know what else the new house has? A dishwasher! And a stream!! And a flushable toilet!!! (Pssst . . . let's keep that non-flushing toilet thing on the down-low, 'kay, until all of the ink on the contract dries!)

Soon enough, we will be packing. Packing and chucking and saying goodbye to neighbors. Today, though, we're just enjoying the sound and smell of the rain. The kids are trashing our itty-bitty house, and I practically don't care.

What You Post When You've Got a Lot Going on in Your Life

Why I'd Make a Shitty Journalist

"I eat Play-Doh"
-what The Boy said to the red-headed realtor

"Especially Designed for your feminine needs, away from the home"
-printed on a tampon machine in a public bathroom

"My tummy hurts"
-what The Girl said to her teacher just before being picked up and making a miraculous recovery

"I was like, 'I have no idea'"
-what my sixteen-year-old neighbor just droned into her cell phone

"Yes"
-what I whispered when you asked me.