I have been busy lately with a wide variety of work projects, baby sickness, and the imminent collapse of all important/expensive parts of our house. Busy, yes, but I'm not exactly comfortable dubbing myself a busy beaver: I don't know much on the work habits of nocturnal, semi-aquatic rodents (thank you, Wikipedia). And since all this "work" is taking place at night, possibly under water, I'm guessing even licensed beaverologists don't know quite how busy beavers are. What am I talking about again?
Anyway, things are hectic enough that I am not really paying much attention to the calendar. Today at work, someone asked, "Hey, are we working on Monday?" I said, "Man, Mondays suck, but we should come in unless it's for something special." It turned out that Monday actually IS something special: it's the 4th of July! How did that happen? The ship has now totally sailed on my big Passover party.
I am excited about Independence Day, though. I get to introduce 3 great parts of being an American to August: fireworks, American flag do-rags, and our love-hate relationship with the Brits. If anyone knows a way for me to combine all 3 into a potent blast of Americana, let me know. I suspect it's theoretically possible, but it could only occur in certain pristine conditions, like Toby Keith's garage.
Independence Day is one of my favorite holidays, in addition to being one of my favorite Jeff Goldblum vehicles. I spent a lot of Independence Days at the beach when I was growing up, attempting to blow up jellyfish with Black Cats. That might be too much for a 7 month old. Then again, if he's strapped into a Baby Bjorne and I'm handling the dangerous parts, it just might be perfect.Posted by Cody at June 30, 2011 8:51 PM