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This is gonna be one of those babbling brook o’consciousness posts I write from time to time, lending special credence to the word “babbling.”

Sean and I made this cocktail a couple weeks ago — before my Moms swooped into town for a week-long six-day (she’ll correct me in an e-mail if I don’t do it now) stay. Why don’t I cocktail *more* when hosting family? God knows I need it badly-er during such times. Oh, right. I’m up the spout. Good thing that I don’t forget that too often.

Anyway, my home office is also our guest room, so when we’ve got folks staying here I basically don’t write, don’t work, don’t check e-mails, and generally grow more and more discomboobulated and unmoored from real life. Which is probably why I sound the way I sound right now. Me no typie so good when brain cloudy with word farts what is thesaurus?

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Let me see if I can explain to you what I’ve done so far today. I woke up at what I consider an ungodly hour, cooked breakfast for others and then didn’t bother to cook any for myself. I took the subway downtown — I much prefer using the Bixi bikes, but the people who were my ward today don’t ride bikes. Then I felt like I was dragged around walked around various (underground) malls looking at ┬ávarious gewgaws and having near-arguments; in one memorable instance, I had to insist to one of my charges that yes, this is the hat you had on when you left the house this morning.

At 10:50 a.m. (also an ungodly hour, I barely believe in showing my face in public for any reason at that time of day) these annoying twits wanted lunch. By 12:40 p.m., they decided it was snack time. We came back to my place at 2:30 p.m. to take naps. Their naps didn’t last as long as I wanted mine to, which means mine didn’t last as long as I wanted mine to. Since then, I’ve been showing people how to use the phone or admonishing them not to touch this or that.

Why even think about having kids someday? Just babysit your in-from-out-of-town septuagenarian parents all day long!

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