Awaiting arrival of Brandon’s new shoes as did not want them left on porch. Dear Brandon wears size 17. Feel sympathy for driver delivering packages. Was informed shoes weigh eight pounds. Recall that he weighed less than new shoes when he was born.
Wonder if universe planned birth of internet to coincide with his arrival on earth. Without electronic shopping, would not be able to provide him with correct size. Every year on his birthday, shoe size matched his age.
Ardently hope his children don’t feel need to surpass their father in everything. Do not want to be sued by future UPS driver for hernia incurred delivering shoes for grandchildren.
(Dear Brandon victim of genetics. Was not able to find size 10 myself when growing up. Fortunately, growth stopped far short of 17.)
Make note of joke that awakened me at 3am. Was inclined to be annoyed at disruptive humor cortex of brain interrupting REM cycle. Annoyance of brain awakening me from sound sleep, yet finding joke humorous, creates ironic dichotomy that is not lost on me.
Joke went: What do you call it when someone writes naughty graffiti on a castle’s walls? Answer: Turret syndrome.
(Mem: Send joke to Reader’s Digest for possible inclusion in future issue. Make list of things to buy with accompanying one hundred dollar check).
Overhear phone conversation between Don and old friend who lives near woods about a ‘deer forum’. Am left wondering if deer really have enough on their plates to convene forums. Perhaps forums are meant to bolster courage and share tips amongst compatriots during hunting season? If so, can only admire community spirit of deer. Fond hope springs up in breast that deer are not planning revenge. Racks of antlers quite intimidating and can no doubt do much damage.
(NB: One-sided phone conversations always so enlightening).
Enjoy usual breakfast in bed served by dear Don. This tradition on Sunday mornings instituted by him for reasons peculiar to his personality. He does not like being waited upon, I am not one to refuse it.
During short constitutional around neighborhood, notice parking lots with tiny houses on wheels, and tiny cars parked nearby. Wonder if instead of Race of Giants, Las Vegas is future site for invasion of Race of Little People? If so, which of us will be the masters? (Mem: Make plans to introduce Little People to activities unique to Las Vegas as sure-fire way to postpone indefinitely alien invasion plans.)
(Note to self: Little People method of domination most likely to include Ankle Biting, so will require combat boots). Remember maxim of dear Scouting days: Be Prepared. Feel complacent about efficiency exhibited, albeit mental only.
Safe arrival of new shoes. Dear Don informs me later that CEO of Zappos is responsible for tiny houses and cars. (Query: Is this stock response for those who Ask Questions? Will withhold decision for now, but continue to Be Prepared.)