Yesterday morning at 7 I get a call from our food manager that someone had had a seizure and crashed into our wall as well as the fire hydrant across the street. The guy that called me was unable to get into the building because he only had a front door key, and the front door was currently jammed and unable to open from either side. Plus he couldn't tell about any possible structural damage and didn't want the storefront to come crashing in on him if he forcefully shoved on the door. Understandable. We still opened but we had to completely operate from the side door, which was very inconvenient. Construction people came yesterday to look everything over and they temporarily put up a wood panel until they can do something permanent next week. Our insurance agent was afraid a homeless person might try to squeeze in and get crushed. She said her brain operates in the worst case scenario, but it was a legitimate concern. We can open the front door now, but we're going to have ...
Friday night was the annual cookie decorating party. This was not a tradition growing up. This is only something my mom started after Gage was born. Although we did dye eggs every year, and that's probably one of the most idiotic and worthless things ever, in my opinion. Every year I am reminded of my favorite year of this tradition, the time Owsley got stuck to a sticky rat trap. This was the year my dad wore the unicorn mask and the kids rode around on his back to terrorize the dog. Also the same year that Owsley took a chip clip and decapitated a handful of the members of my mom's Christmas village people. Those are the moments I look back on and fondly cherish in my heart. The destruction of Christmas and consumerism. That's my boy! Although in the end I'm sure this just meant my mom bought more Christmas village people. Not this kind of Christmas Village People. I'm talking about the little cement caroling guys who's production serves absolutely no purpose...