Daulton's Last Day

Today was supposed to be Daulton's last day. He didn't show up.
The part finally arrived for the dryer. Now we are back to two working dryers.
I hate the Broncos so much right now. The sight of anything even remotely evocative of them makes me furious.
The kids' program was Sunday. They rocked it. And by "rocked it," I mean that there were some long awkward pauses and scenes completely mixed up and turned around. But by "rocked it," I still mean that they rocked it. No one cares if they make little mistakes. The congregation enjoyed it, I think. They had a couple good laughs too.
Pat came by the office today to give "Lauren" a Christmas/going-away present. I reminded her for the fifty-seventh time that his name is Daulton. Obviously, if you have been paying attention, you realize that Daulton was not here to receive this present. Pat wanted to know if I would see Daulton and if she could leave the gift with me. Her asking me this turned into a twenty minute story that included everything from her husband dying fifty-four years ago, to her daughter dying young, to her seventy pound dog Sheba attacking the mailman, to her poor health, to her husband setting Sheba on fire while attempting to barbeque in the garage.
Between that last paragraph and this one, I removed two loads of laundry from the dryers and switched the two loads from the washers to the newly emptied dryers.
It's almost Christmas. It doesn't feel like it. I still need to get the majority of Anna's Christmas presents.
Speaking of Anna and Christmas. My dear cute little wife is terrible. My mother sent us our presents in a box, with clear instructions for me to wrap Anna's present when it arrived. I did manage to do this, using the supplied gift bag, but because it was in a gift bag, Anna decided it wouldn't do any harm to go through everything she got, including opening a sealed envelope with her name on it. She told me she'd just put it all back and open it again Christmas morning, which of course ruins the whole thing. Essentially, what I am saying is that you should never give Anna a present until you are ready for her to open it.
I will not let Anna even see her wrapped presents from me until Christmas morning.
My mother-in-law's family Christmas party was Sunday afternoon. Anna wasn't feeling up to going, but a few weeks ago, we had agreed to bring bread. I went ahead and made the loaves and went. I don't mind most of Anna's family. Heck, I don't mind all of Anna's family, and I even like a lot of them. In general, I actually kind of like most of the people who were at the party. We made fun of Scott (Anna's cousin) a lot because he just got his wisdom teeth pulled, and he looked ridiculous. We also got to hear about Rachel (Scott's sister) and her trials and tribulations with college basketball and a coach with an anger management problem.
Our kitchen light is dead. The electrician is coming in the morning to fix it and to fix a light switch in Bobbie's apartment and a light in Pat's bathroom.
"I thought about fire in the sky/I thought about fire/I thought about love burning in your eye/I thought about fire" I have a great deal of good music. It's nice to remind myself of that sometimes.
The Rockies have yet to make any noise in trades this offseason. Mostly, they seem to have been working on resigning people. What they need is to get their young hitters to improve their batting averages and their pitchers to pitch under pressure.
Katie walked into my office today and informed me that it hurt to walk because of the calluses on her feet. She then decided it was necessary to show me her callused feet.
People who read this blog: Person who read forty-two entries in one day
Somebody from Western Michigan University spent over three hours reading our blog. I think they found our blog via a friend's blog. Usually, I think it's interesting when strangers read our blog. This time, I just think it's weird and kind of creepy. I wonder what they learned about me. I wonder what it is about this blog that made them keep reading. They probably were just astounded by the precision of my prose and were imagining how sexy I look as I write these entries half (or completely) naked, at my desk.