Yeah. Pretty much.
Tyler and I managed to not kill each other. Yet. I've just discovered that I CANNOT talk about politics with him. I should have learned that earlier this summer when we nearly got into a different argument. About politics. *Sigh* That's really frustrating.
Chuck Sr is home. How do I know this? He beeped the car alarm TEN times. Ten. Ten times.
(I know. I know. He says "years" but same difference. I pretty much said this, word for word, when he did it.)
Then? He came out and beeped it three more times 45 minutes later.
I really, REALLY, want to shove that key fob down his throat.
Hope all is well in Chicago. Here is wet. And... yeah. Pretty much a sogging mess.
Da bears, ya'll!