Something Rotten in the State of Denmark…

We rolled in about an hour ago from a trip to New York to visit Casey’s family.   His dad threw a surprise party for his mom’s 70th birthday, and it was a hit, to say the least.   Though Ruby knew that all three of her sons and their families were coming,  we don’t think she caught  wind of the party until right before.     The 25 or so guests consisted of friends that Ruby and George have known forever – some even since elementary school, and most since at least high school.   It was such a unique gathering; so many of them staying so close for so long.   I could write for another hour about the stories I heard (or overheard, I should say), but I think I may divulge too much in the recount.   So Happy Birthday, Ruby!

Another Happy Birthday (today!) to my dear Dad!   I won’t divulge his age, but he’s timeless anyway, so it doesn’t make a difference.   I love you, Dad!   Sorry I missed being with you today, but we look forward to a belated celebration later this week!

Walking into our house after the long, traffic-laden drive, however, we were greeted by a distinctly foul smell.   It was close to spoilt milk, but after thorough examinations by first me, then Casey, then Kenny, then Dudley (Cooper declined, perhaps because the poop in his diaper was masking the curdled smell), we found nothing.   I ran the disposal for a while, cleaned out the fridge and I guess we’ll just leave it at that.   I can’t smell it anymore, anyway.

So now the kids are asleep and Casey is trying to catch up on some missed work before the new work week starts and I am contemplating starting laundry, or just going to bed.   Sleep was not a big part of the long weekend, and I feel almost hungover from the lack of it.   Sleep, perchance to dream… Ah;   There’s the rub.   I’ll probably dream about the laundry.