While my mother was clinically insane and my father largely absent, I was thankful for both of them after seeing this week’s Wife Swap. I fear, Mr. Wiesenthal, you have one living in Florida with a family of five.
Against my strongest and most strident advice, one of our networks has cast a remarkably unstable woman, one with whom I’ve worked, one who will cause the production to stop as she is unable to keep a linear thought for more than three minutes.
The kids from the office are coming over tonight to the new place tonight for some pizza, beer, and Cranium. I’ll lose, of course. I’m Mr. Fumbly Thumbs in matters of clay molding, and I pity my teammate who will attempt to decipher my mime skills.
Joe is over his silent period, a moment of reflection for both of us. We’ll spend time together this weekend once his previous obligations are addressed. Eat, shop, fight. It’ll be a familiar weekend, in a comforting way.
The Lepevi tribe has been whittled down to two men, three legs. Working in a female-based culture, I witness the sweeping sway of sisterhood every day. Its power should never be denied.