Last night I dreamed that Larry moved all of us to Central America for a few years. To some small, nowhere town in the mountains (Are there mountains in Central America? Must check), where no one knew any English. And we don't speak Spanish. I expressed some trepidation over this situation and he said, "Don't worry, honey. The language immersion will be great for the kids."
Only a homeschooler would dream that.
Anyway, the day after we moved to this strange place where we couldn't communicate with anyone, he went on a 3-week business trip.
But he left us presents. I got a kit full of hand- and ankle-weights.
So maybe he thinks I need more exercise and that I talk to my friends too much. But I do think he should keep those thoughts to his own dreams and stop interfering in mine, don't you?
Boy, that picture looks weird. Was everyone on drugs in the 70's, or what?