Eight hours before the meet up, and my left eye is a pink, swollen, puffy mess. I've hot compressed, I've cold compressed, I've gotten plenty of sleep, and yet I still have the air of a certain disfigured Disney cartoon hunchback. My left thumb is bandaged after an incident with a knife and a particularly wily piece of fruit, and my back is killing me from sleeping on the V-shaped futon. Kalee has an injured foot and can't make it tonight, Jamie's flight was delayed by ten hours and she can't make it either. So much for Friday the thirteenth being my lucky day, right?
I would chalk all this up to my Charlie Brown-style bad luck, and maybe it is, but when I look back to last year at this time, also, coincidentally enough when I was at my parents' house, the list of infirmities reads: two knife wounds, a canker sore, a wasp sting, and fleas. So you see, this is not my fault! This is par for the course! It's not me, it's...it's...this place! I will be lucky to make it out with my life.
And now, a brief heart-warming family anecdote:
"Did you make the coffee today, Dad?"
"I can tell."
"Why, it's not strong enough?"
"I made it twice as strong as I usually do."
"Becca makes it better."
"I don't like to waste coffee."
"Dad, am I a waste of coffee?" (Here I attempted a sad puppy dog look, which was rendered mostly ineffective by my Quasimodo eye.)
It's always good to know where you stand with your family, you know?