The Return of Yawny...

When is Papa going to get here?

I seem to be in a sleepy haze lately. I slept all night last night and slept all day again. Maggie will watch me yawn and then she will then yawn in turn. Felines won't do this little trick. They are much too independent or aloof.

Maggie is smelling awful doggie tonight as well and I need to give her a bath. It will traumatize her to no end when I do this, though. It's like Superman's aversion to Kryptonite.

I heard my father's car pull up to the curb and Maggie was ecstatic.

"Shit!" dad exclaimed vulgarly as he stepped inside my house tonight for the medication ritual, "I forgot your Cokes and cigars."

At least he brought homemade vegetable beef soup and some buttery cornbread. That was a great and tasty consolation prize.

"Don't worry about it, dad," I replied. "I have enough to get me by until tomorrow morning."

Dad does their household grocery shopping on Wednesday night and mom has asked me if he had left my house. Mom was very lucid this evening and that was a good sign. You can talk some sense into her when she gets like this.

Dad was grilling me on South African history, the Afrikaners and apartheid this evening.  We got embroiled in a talk about an Englishman named Cecil Rhodes that turned around South Africa through mining and building a railroad network across the nation. President Clinton when to Cambridge with an extremely prestigious Rhodes scholarship.