Tuesday, February 10, 2009


I had an extraordinarily bad afternoon dealing with incompetent people. What saved my evening was my daughter, who felt the need to shave like daddy does. Many mornings she has watched me perform this ritual, and she uses the "T" from her bathtub alphabet set as her razor. She calls it her knife, since I cut the whiskers off with mine.

I'm pretty sure Sera will be bright enough to be able to do payroll when she's old enough. Too bad I'll be retired by then.

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