Dear Friends:
We are gathered here today to celebrate the liberation of one family. This family has been cooped up in fewer square feet than are needed, looking at the former front window (broken by one of the younger members of the family who shall remain nameless, but whom we shall call Gee-oh), and reduced to eating Cheesy Tortillas. Four times a week. Cold.
There have been quarrels, my friends, and tears. A few bright moments when Daddy has the day off and we (or some non-pregnant portion of us) can go to Menards and unwind among the power tools. And occasional moments of greatness, as when we watched Guys and Dolls together, all of us marvelling at Marlon Brando's lack of talent -- though he does look good in a hat.
And today -- today, ladies and gentlemen, the temperature has soared to the balmy 45-50 degree range. The children are running around -- voluntarily -- in fresh air, wearing only t-shirts! I have the door open so the smell from the baking chicken doesn't overwhelm me.
Vitamin D! Exercise! we may avoid raving madness after all. Thank the Lord.
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3 comments:
Man... Marlon Brando really couldn't sing AT ALL, could he? And the girl was no better! Yeah, you'll know when your love comes along because birds, puppies, and small children will be fleeing from the approach of the off-pitch, nasal whining sound...
But, I still love that movie.
No kidding about the woman. It must have been torture for Frank Sinatra to have to sing next to Marlon and whatsername -- who gets steadily more repulsive and unlikely as a love interest for libido-oozing Brando.
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