The Bar Exam is This Month.
We have had the warmest January on record, by half a degree. Apparently the rest of the world is cold and snowy, though. Sorry, folks. If it's any comfort, we've only had a few glimpses of sunshine.
Last night there was a need for an emergency bath, and to my distress I discovered the bathtub was completely plugged. I knew I should have been keeping it cleaner. I sponged off the child in question, removed the drain, and proceeded with a round of baking soda, vinegar, and boiling water--another round--another. Nothing went down at all. I poked with a hanger. Nothing.
DOB went out this morning and bought Drano. I poured the whole bottle down the drain. Nothing moved, although the chunks of goo from the night before dissolved. Finally His Majesty brought home a plumbing snake, tried to force it down, noticed a completely solid barrier . . . and flipped the drain plug switch.
DOB and I are applying to work for the census while DOB awaits Bar results. Um, that's infiltrate the Census Bureau, since everyone we know thinks the Census is evil and intrusive. But we hope they pay us for infiltrating.
I got a perfect score on the initial test (we'll next try to get approved as supervisors). Good thing they didn't test plumbing maintenance.
At the dinner we attended the other night (for which I felt properly attired), a judge recounted various amusing stories from his legal career. One was of a threatening letter sent from one lawyer to another: "If this case goes to court, we will go for the juggler!" To which the other firm replied, "Well, if *you* go for the juggler, we'll go for the magician *and* the dancing bear."
He also said that a judge in the county--but not him--had instructed the jury to retire and consider their verdict "in the guilty room."
The twins have discovered books. Rather too enthusiastically. Indeed, if he's not heading outside, D4 wants to sit in my lap and read. It doesn't take much plot to entertain him: "Car! Car! Animals! Apple! Car! Car!" (Skip all the other pages, begin again, with even more enthusiasm.) D3 prefers *The Carrot Seed* and *Goodnight Moon* and such with at least a glimmer of plot. D1 and D2 fortunately enjoy reading to them. It's a great symbiotic relationship, except that they can no longer agree on whose books are whose.
3 comments:
I find the census objections intriguing, since that actually is one of the originally enumerated Constitutional powers.
Don't feel like arguing it right before the bar exam, tho...
I sometimes have visions of the ducklings being the total opposite of what we'd expect. D1 becomes a philosopher at a prestigious, quiet British university. D2 is a winner of the MVP award at the big-league level of college football, and proceeds to give motivational speeches. D3 is an award-winning flamenco dancer. D4 wins the world Sumo wrestling contests for five years running, then slims down to become a Shakespearean actor.
They all have marvelous stories to tell when they come home for the holidays. But since none of them are plumbers, they can't help with clogged drains either. Although D4 is willing, for 5 years, to move the bathtub outdoors, straight through the wall.
USA
DOB: The objections are not to being counted for appropriating Congressional districts, but to answering more intrusive questions on lifestyle.
USA: Well, D2 did (reputedly) stand up on a table and belt out his memory verses for the benefit of all nearby, so he may be on his way to the motivational speaker career. No sign of football talent, though.
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