The little guy turned 6 months today. Celebrated by passing an absolutely normal day. Which really, if I think about it, isn't that bad. If I spent all my birthdays playing, eating, sleeping, shitting, and only occasionally crying, I'd consider myself a lucky man. But this evening it seems like he might be coming down with a cold, and it seems like Jeannie might be, too (I heard her sneeze in the bedroom after I got home from work and was in the kitchen making myself a G&T), and to be honest, I've had a bit of a tickle in the ol' throat for a day or two as well.
So they're saying that the East Coast is about to get slammed by a storm the likes have which has never been seen by man or beast, and I'll be honest, I'm a little scared. I don't like storms. I don't like the fact that we have big, old trees in our yard that drop branches when I cut a big fart. I don't like having to cut up said branches after they are dropped. And I don't want our cars, home, or son to get smashed by any stupid branches. So, I'll probably spend the storm cowering in the basement wearing earmuffs.
Had a meeting with the architects, theatrical consultants, and electrical engineers yesterday about the new theatre. Didn't get the answers I wanted to hear about several semi-major issues. Hmmmm. Must come up with brilliant, million-dollar ideas to solve the issues.
What else? I really am looking forward to Sunday, when both Jeannie and I are off work, and we'll all get to hang out as a family, and hopefully the boy won't be sick and hopefully the storm won't be storming and the branches won't be dropping and we'll all be safe and warm and dry.
