1/1/11
New Year’s Eve we played Scrabble. Patricia poured glasses of sparkling grape juice. She and the kids promptly drank it. I hoarded mine until midnight. Some people have a tradition of kissing at midnight. We don’t, and we didn’t. That’s really not too surprising considering we haven’t had anything resembling a romantic kiss in… two years and nine months. You could say we’ve lost the passion, but I’d say you can’t lose what you never had.
Crap, I’m writing this on the third and Blogger doesn’t allow re-dating anymore. Oh well, it’s one more reason to be a little more diligent.
　
1/3/11
While we waited in the parking lot for Joshua to get out of school, Rachel showed me some of the Pokemon she has on her iPod. “This is a fur-a-gator.” Is that because it’s supposed to be a furry alligator? “No, because it’s a ferocious alligator.” Which brings us to the question, ‘Is it okay to be homo-phobic if what you fear are homophones? ’
She described the next one as, “a purple mutant monkey thingy.” I ventured, “It’s a pur-mut-monk-ingy?” Rachel brightly informed me I have no future as a Pokemon employee. Another dream shot.