Gratuitous Domestic Posting (TM)

The Llama-ettes are off to a birthday party this afternoon, leaving yours truly to such manly domestic chores as cleaning the kitchen, folding laundry and changing the sheets. I though one of the benefits of being a dead European male troglodyte oppressor was that I got to sit around all afternoon with my pipe and martini, watching college ball and snapping my fingers at the Missus when I wanted something done around the house. Bloody swindle, this is. I want my money back.

As regular readers know, the Missus and I have a custom of cycling through the Llama-ettes with one-on-one Saturday morning breakfast outings whenever feasible. Gives us a chance to just have a little time to chat. Today was my turn with the five year old. Her fortes have always been independence and politeness, which means that she insists on ordering her own breakfast and frequently causes the waiter to do a double-take with her big smile and enthusiastic "Thank you very much!" Also, almost inevitably when I'm with her, neighboring tables start listening in on her banter. Today, the busboy came up to refill my cup and she said, "No, thank you! I'm not allowed to eat coffee!" Brought down the house.

It's nice that the Llama-ette is being so polite because, by Heaven, everybody else around here seems to have jettisoned their manners. The Crazy Season has o-ficially commenced. It took me ten minutes to navigate around all the people playing games of chicken over parking spaces in front of the diner. And the roads in town were not really any better, being as they were full of drivers pulling every kind of damn-fool stunt you could think of. I ask all of you: please be extra careful out there.