Only, NOT. I followed him downstairs to revel in the sight of the accessible exterior wall and realized that Larry had already managed to throw a bunch of stuff back in there and half the wall was blocked. My bug boyfriend tried to pretend that was perfectly normal and all, but EMBARRASSING.
Things are better today, though, because I took my kids to the bowling alley, which had 70's music playing (because it is ALWAYS the 1970's in bowling alleys, and WHY?), and I heard both "Delta Dawn" and "I Write the Songs"; so my life is just about perfect right now.
"Could it be a painted rose from days gone byyyy?" I still remember Helen Reddy singing that song on the Carol Burnett show. And I used to have the Barry Manilow piano book, so I played "Weekend in New England" and "I Write the Songs" over and over during my oh-so-exciting teenage years. And the one concert I went to was a Barry Manilow concert, when I was 17.
As you can tell, I didn't give my parents a speck of trouble.
In other news, my neighborhood has rats. I was trying to pretend that the rats would stick to one or two yards in the neighborhood (because rodents are really conscientious about property boundaries like that), but yesterday my neighbor informed me that his dog had recently attacked and killed a rat that had emerged from a hedge right next to my house.
So now I'm packing. Anyone want a spacious, well-insulated townhouse in a neighborhood formerly known as desirable?
For your listening pleasure, and no, I don't know why women were dressing like that in 1973...