Okay, Here's the Mid-afternoon Scuttlebutt...

I have just arrived home from my parent's house. Sunday night fried chicken is not progressing at a very fast pace disappointingly. Charlie is mopping my parent's hardwood floors, mom was in the bed, and my father was having an animated conversation over the phone with my brother-in-law. The situation is not looking very expedient. A good thing was that I got my Cokes and a big Tupperware container of hash. Mom is going to call me when they leave to get our food.

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Okay, mom just called and said they left at 7:15 pm to get our food. I was so hungry being the end of the week that Maggie and I both had big bowls of corned beef hash. I will save my double w/cheese for later this evening.

"Dad hurts my feelings when I call him," I told my mother. "He never acts like he is glad to hear from me."

"He treats me the same way," my mother replied. "I try not to call him unless I have to! He was just talking to your brother-in-law like he was conversing with Jesus."

"I guess we are just the burdensome schizophrenics of the family," I said. "He thinks we always need something when we call him."

Mom and I were both having a real pity party tonight.