Erin Go Bra(less)

Happy St. Patrick's Day, readers. Here at our house, we don't pay much heed to the feast day of St. Patrick. We have very little Irish blood coursing through our veins. But we most certainly do have other blood coursing through our veins and out of our bodies, as was quite evident upon my rising this morning. Apparently someone had one heck of a nosebleed before bed. Looks like Freddie Krueger came a-knockin'. Sheesh. Fortunately he dripped about only on hard surfaces--no carpet! I told him 9 years old was too young for cocaine, but do they listen?

Well, I hope you all are enjoying springtime! Ha. We have a coating of snow on the lawn. My St. Patty's day run around the lake was cancelled. Likewise to baseball practice for the coke head. So looks like I'll be breaking out a jigsaw puzzle. Well, looky here. It's young Henry, ambling out after a good night's sleep. What's this? Oh, his boxers are soaked through with urine. Body fluids abound this morning. And did I mention? I have no washer and dryer.

Good day.