I'm home and all the writing juice has been squeezed out of me the way Ethan would empty a tube of toothpaste if he had the chance.
We are just waiting, waiting for the time to pass to get everything together to get in the van and go to Nawnie and Ampa's, so I can go exercise. Ethan is eating, sort of, a bowl of cereal. Joey is walking around with a blue toothbrush and white suds hanging out of his mouth.
Really. These piddly observations are all I can muster out right now.
The feeling, at least, of understanding what is going on.
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