My computer downstairs isn’t even connected to a phone line. It’s three years old, starting to breakdown, and there’s no replacement on the horizon. Yeah, baby, this is the highlife.
Why do I bring this up? No idea… just rambling. I’m the only one I know of my friends at work with a wife, a kid and a mortgage, well, with a wife that stays home. (take your meds, Billy… sorry Six Feet Under moment). I love my life, but I sometimes watch my friends and wonder what it would be like to be able to go out on the weekend without worrying about Max and if he’s all right. To be able to go out and spend money without worrying about the mortgage. Yep, responsibility… it’s a bitch. But, I really (and I mean it this time) wouldn’t have it any other way. Max only gets more fun. He’s hilarious. He’s not saying words, but his babbling is becoming more intoned and animated. It’s too funny to listen to him babble away.
It’s funny. We make decisions with no real idea what the consequences will be. Thankfully, most of the time, things work out. We make it work. I’m glad that when I got married I knew what I was getting into. I knew what I wanted out my marriage, and I think we’re doing a pretty good job as a couple and as parents. So, that’s the state of the union. Now, back to the show… and Sweetie, I’m sorry. I hit the record button @ 9, but it didn’t start. I’ll fill you in when you get home.