When I got home this evening Super Wife and the kids were gone to Davenport again. She's said before that she couldn't go back every day because it was just too exhausting. But I think the thrill of getting 40 mpg gets her excited to go. "I'm saving money on gas! Whoo Hoo!"
Last night she said she'd topped off the tank before she left, and after the round trip the gauge had hardly budged. She's quite pleased with her choice.

I'm a little surprised. She still complains that her wrists hurt. The Honda is a manual 5-speed- you'd think all the shifting would aggravate it, especially since she has to shift with the wrist that had surgery. But apparently she's coping quite well. Maybe Honda’s have therapeutic properties. Feng Shui anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

I guess if she's driving back and forth to Davenport it only makes sense for her to drive the Honda. If we give the Intrepid to my brother Ron that will mean I'm driving the van to work. I still like our van, but for passing on the interstate, etc, the Intrepid is a better driving machine. It’s not that the van is a bad thing. I've looked at other vans, but I haven't seen any other that is as nice as ours. Even the newer Caravans, same ES model, aren't as nice. Apparently we got the best year. I just wish the air in it worked, even a 15-minute drive home is uncomfortable in 90 degree heat and no air. I've noticed other, older Caravans being driven with the windows down too, no doubt about it, the air conditioners were junk. Supposedly they've gotten better since the merger with Daimler, but that doesn't do ME any good. I’m going to refrain from going on a rant about why does it take someone from a foreign company to decide an American company shouldn’t make junk? Maybe later. I dunno.

Ms. Pikachu doesn't want to get rid of the van anyway. She says it has her special place. I told her she can always claim the seat behind the driver as her special place, but she says it's the SEAT that's special. So can we keep the seat? You think you've heard it all. It's not an issue anyway, we'll keep the van until it has chronic problems too. I have a feeling it'll turn to rust first.

I'll miss the Intrepid's performance. Coming home this evening I had to merge into a line of traffic and hit the gas to get to a gap. Boom. Man that thing hauls when you ask it to. The Honda can't do that, but it can pass twice as many gas stations. I appreciate that, but I like to go fast too. Sometimes that’s handy.

This afternoon at work, my boss was gone and George came up to see if there was anybody waiting to be interviewed. Well no, I had matters well in hand, thank you very much. Did about 70 interviews today. No applause, no, thank you. But it WAS a good performance on my part. Anyway, it was about two minutes to closing, nobody was left up front to wait on, I was talking to Don, the guard. George said, somewhat in jest, "We're close enough Don, why don't you lock the door?" Don said, "Alright." Then he turned to me and said, "Now you heard him, he told me to lock the door early." I said, "I sure did Don, I'm behind you 100%. But if George ever says he didn't tell you that, I'm going to forget this conversation ever happened. Remember, in a world where it's survival of the fittest, chickens are still extremely plentiful." He laughed and gave me his 'where does that sh-t come from?' look. George clucked like a chicken. I was surprised he didn't say something like "Chicken? Thems good eatin.'" Anyway, it was a moment.

I do crap like that and I can't help but think, yeah, that's where Ms. Pikachu gets it.

Anyway, since nobody was home when I got here, I perused the note on the fridge about things needed. And, always trying to please, I went to Wally World to get them. On the way home I stopped at the Long John Silver’s drive-thru. I ordered, and then the voice in the magic talking box asked if I wanted pie with that. Well no, I didn’t, but I have a daughter with a thing for pie. There was no pie menu, so- “What kinds do you have?” The magic box spoke of many wondrous things, but “chocolate” caught my ear. Chocolate is Ms. Pikachu’s favorite. I kind of hated to order it, because that only encourages their selling behavior, on the other hand, it WOULD make her happy.

Okay, everybody is home. The mother-in-law was actually whispering today. The wife is pleased, again.

Ms. Pikachu walked in and said, “Here, you can have the rest of my Dr Pepper and Milk Duds- the ultimate in snackage” and handed them to me. Either I am greatly favored, or she was just pigged out.

A little later I called her into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Pancakes?” she queried. Where does that come from? She looked inside the fridge, saw the piece of chocolate pie I’d gotten her- “Pie!” she exclaimed. She walked back into the living room yelling in exultation, “I’m having pie for breakfast!” Yup, she’s special.