Today Jackson informed me that he and his friend, Caden (Caden is a boy), are getting married and they're going to live on a farm.
Me: "What kind of farm?"
Jackson: "Well, I wanted it to be a gold farm but Caden wants it to be a regular farm, so I'm going with that."
Me: "The essence of any good marriage is compromise."
Jackson: "And he wants pigs and a cow, but we both want a chicken."
Meanwhile, Alice continues to spend her days molesting my dog:
She actually got some work done today, though, so she's off the hook. Molest away, Alice!
Now, for a surprise:
I bet you didn't think I had these in me. I had a Chrissie Hynde moment at the Nordstrom half-yearly sale back in ought-four, I think it was. These are Donald J. Pliners and I've worn them exactly once because they give me shin splints just looking at them. They're too nice to throw out, but the next time I go anywhere in a sedan chair I'll consider building an outfit around them. Or there's always eBay, I guess, but suddenly the thought of selling them makes me sad.