Cloudy

I have a little pet name for p-man. He is known, affectionately, as "my little black cloud". It has been black cloud weekend extraordinnaire and I think we are glad it's over. Despite the fact that we should be elated with the sale of our home on Friday we have been chasing every whiff of disaster and we are worn right out.

I blame him. But of course I am just as bad? Well sometimes as bad.

We have hung our heads over the sadness of strippers. The 'lost' cat (stuck in the garage actually) was GONE. DEAD. DEAD AND GONE. The scheduling nightmares of one of our standard weekends at times seemed nearly fatal to our relationship. For my bad... hands were wrung, tears shed over the loss of the following photo from the iPhoto library. (god bless Flickr.) We went to another birthday party today and withing about 3 minutes of our arrival, my question: Is it over yet? Lots of whimpering, hollering, panicking and stress. Stressstressstress.



Thank god little faces like this are around to urge us to... Snap out of it!

ps... I really hate that phrase 'my bad' do you know what I mean?