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Dispatches from the Co-Prosperity Sphere

You keep whinging because we don't call enough. For heaven's sake, stop! We can't call because we're busy. Just look at what we're doing. Does it look like we have the time to sleep? Eat? Breathe? Let alone communication with the outside world! We're building empires! We're winning hearts and minds! We're forging ahead, confronting our demons, marching victoriously toward a grand and glorious new era! And we're doing it all from the comfort of the backyard hammock.

3.03.2004

Tomorrow's Thursday and You Know What That Means

The Baby Goddess has underpants with the days of the week on them.

The Pirate and I always take turns getting her dressed, but the procedure is always the same. She lays on our bed swathed in the blankets and we fish out the little feet and put the underpants on her.

There is always a running narrative about what's happening, including the day of the week printed on the underpants. On Fridays, there is the obligatory joke about "Oh no! Friderpants! Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle!" On Saturday, any time she sits down, she gets the "Saturpants" joke. I have to get her dressed on Sundays, because "Those whom Hanes has brought together, let no man put on Sunderpants." Then there are the Monderpants and the Tuederpants. There is some disagreement about the next day. Some days they are the Wederpants (not good), on other days, the Wunderpants. And then there's Thursday. The Pirate insists on getting her dressed on Thursdays, and I can count on the entire neighborhood hearing his shouts as he does so.

Thunder! THUNDER! THUNDERPANTS! HO!!

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