We're sort of resigned to the status quo here - Anna angry, sullen, alienated; Rachel incarcerated (cheerfully) in her room; Theo counting the days until he's out of this madhouse....
That's right - Theo, rightfully realizing that things are going to heck in a handbasket here, got himself a summer job (or, as he refers to it, a paid vacation) at the Boy Scout camp he attended a couple of summers back. Apparently he prefers sleeping in a tent for 7 weeks to dealing with the craziness here. David and Brian are joyfully planning dairy-laden menus to have while he is away. They were only slightly let down to hear that there are going to be a lot of chores being reassigned during his absence. The directors of the camp were willing to take Anna on staff too (well, they didn't meet her); but she became irate when I suggested it to her. She's only spent the last 4 months telling me how much she hates me and how she can't wait to get away and now I give her her chance and she yells at me. I guess the idea of sleeping in a tent teed her off. I'm thinking of paying her to go.
Susie, thankfully, more than makes up for the, um, personality deficiencies around here. She is very talented and knows how to blow kisses and wave bye-bye and pout prettily when she doesn't get her way. And yes, I just eat that stuff up. As does Larry. We're both suckers.
Oh, I know - you all want to hear about the toilets, don't you? Well, you'll be surprised to hear that there's been nary a visit from our friend John the Plumber since the last newsletter. Seems that supersonic, jet-propelled-flush toilet is doing the job. It even swallowed Theo's military ID without a hitch. So Rachel has chosen to focus on expensive musical instruments this month instead. She managed to get hold of a grapefruit and impale it on the piano lamp (please, please don't ask me why), but none of the keys seem to be sticking, thankfully. Then she got hold of Anna's flute. Apparently, when we warned Anna never to leave her flute anywhere except on the highest shelf in her locked closet, we weren't specific enough. Now she wants to know why she's paying for the repair. Because we are unreasonable, that's why.
Larry and I actually went out to the movies a couple of weeks ago. His supervisor gave him a gift card to the local cinema and we thought, "What the heck - we haven't seen a real movie together in, oh, 14 years, maybe it's time, you know?" Larry wanted to see and I thought "Total guy movie," but I agreed to martyr myself by seeing it (Larry promised me popcorn). You know, it was actually a good film. That is hot. I'm so out of it, I didn't even know who he was until Larry told me. Wow. Larry enjoyed the movie also, though his enjoyment was somewhat diminished by my drooling over the main character.
Anna says we're always trying to control her (we had told her to get some exercise and stop glaring at us all the time). Apparently she woke up one day and said to herself, "Who put them in charge?" and it's been unpleasant here ever since. She's really getting on our nerves (which are, admittedly, a tad frayed at this point).
But, no matter - our ship has come in. As anyone who checks out the coupon section of their Sunday paper may already know, Scott Paper Company (of toilet-tissue fame) is sponsoring a contest wherein one is invited to tell the story of their "worst clogging incident." (There's a euphemism, if I ever heard one.) First prize - $25,000. Yes! That money is mine!