Crunchy

We had parent night until 9:30, and Julie and the kids were all asleep by the time I got home.  So now I'm sitting here eating Fritos and trying to settle down after an evening of being "on" for the first time since mid-June.  Poor, poor me!  Crunch crunch crunch.

I'm teaching a senior creative writing course, and I can't decide if I should tell them about the blog.  I feel like I'd have to first re-read everything and then delete the embarrassing parts and swear words, like yesterday when I discussed Rowan taking a shit.  Edit it to read "defecate" or "squirt dookie from his dookie hole."  I'm tired.

Didn't see Rowan at all today and only saw Lyla briefly when she woke up right as I was leaving.  No photos.  Don't even know if Rowan went poopy in the poopy pot again.  Hey look, it's Al Franken!

We toured Thomson Reuters today because [details you don't care about] and Franken showed up seemingly randomly at the end to talk to us about [more details you don't care about].  Pretty cool, but rather than the meandering talking points, he could've just told us we were good enough, smart enough, and doggone it people like us. 

My Fritos are gone, so I'm going to bed.