Chocolate covered sticky fingers wiped clean with a cold water wash cloth. The pillow case candy stuffed bounty hidden in the closet where Dad and little brother can't find it only to be forgotten until sometime around Christmas. And only four more days of mud slinging political ads to endure as November rains wash orange leaves into the gutter drains. A momentary lull until the next turkey ladened don't let uncle Harry get drunk and spill the gravy on the newly cleaned carpets family get together. And no talking about aunt Minnies' divorce at the dinner table. Traditions have become too traditional but that's what we do and that's how we roll. No smoked aardvark adorning Americas' tables on a day of thanks. And thanks for what? That we're all still alive in this rat race? Oops forgot some have stopped running on the treadmill and are just watching the parade.
So stuff another chocolate bar in the old pie hole before the blood sugar drops too low. Kick back listen to the rain because it'll be here for a while. They don't call it the pineapple express for nothing. But for us just make it a double tall monster mocha because that's how we get by here unless you're of the younger set in which case it's sexting, medicine cabinet drugs, and rock and roll or is that hip hop I forgot? We sit and count the navel lint (too wet to go outside) and wait for the next "did you see/hear about that"? Knowing all well that it will be but a faded memory in a day/week or two. Thought it was supposed to clear up today for a little bit anyway. I had plans but the best laid of men and mice and all that. Just can no longer bring myself to flip on the box for the next round of the three ring political circus. The amusing has lost its' amusement value. The joke has gone too long. We have reached the saturation point. I'd watch paint dry at this point but right now it won't. Any ideas?