It did not stop yesterday.

Result: a few leaks and some wet walls. This is the time when I thank God I don’t own a house. I can live with passing on the problems to someone else (the landlord) for a little while longer.

Shit, we’re out of coffee. So much for not having to leave the house. It’s not good. It’s really not good.

So, now my stepson is sick and he’s home from school today. Fine by me. It’s a rainy, rainy morning, so I don’t mind not having to leave the house! I just pray that Squid isn’t next.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa. You know what? I had to convince you I didn’t want sugar or jelly or honey or bananas or raisins in my omelet. “Plain?” You couldn’t quite wrap your head around “plain.” But when all is said and done, I would give anything to have one of your outrageous omelets today. I miss you. Always.

Yeah, yeah, I love me some Little Mermaid and Snow White. And, yes, I’ve heard all the stuff about how Disney is sexist (think about it…every movie - every SINGLE movie (save Fantasia, maybe) - portrays male dominance over women), and I just go, “Whatever.” So, Disney is inappropriate and chauvinistic and all that. Okay, I can live with that. They’re just movies, and they are fun. Plus, I love Disneyland.

But, then, last night I started reading Cinderella to Squid. I didn’t get past the first paragraph and here’s why:

“Once upon a time in a faraway land there was a young girl named Cinderella. When she was a child, her mother died.”

At that point, I shut the book and selected another (non-Disney!) story to read before bedtime. C’mon! What the hell is that? Her mother died! Is that really necessary?