Pre-vacation wrap up

Well, I'll be heading off to the wild blue yonder momentarily (as in within 48 hours). I don't know when I'll be able to bloggerize but, unless you hear otherwise, I'll be in Arizona or Illinois or North Carolina or somewhere like that having a spectacular time.

A few final thoughts:
• TV said that SV thought I was crazy for saying giant cockroaches are nastier than centipedes. He's probably right. But I was forced to be the centipede killer, so giant cockroaches are all that are left to fear.

Picture this: Me, Brad, EdC. and Madams playing Trivial Pursuit at the cinder-block house. A centipede comes slinking out of the pantry. Two of them jump on top of the table and start screaming. I grab the scissors and the third moves in behind me, using me as a human shield in case the centipede decides to attack. That leaves me on my own with a chorus of manly men shrieking, "Kill it! Kill it! Cut it in half! Kill it!"

• Remember how I fell outside Starbucks a few weeks ago? Well, it was the same type of thing today except this time I can't blame my shoe. I stepped off with the wrong leg and I have a muscle that runs from the left knee to the foot that likes to just give way. I wish I had video of EdC.'s lion toy to re-enact what happens. It's very disturbing and I guarantee that I'm going to be severely injured someday. But today I survived. I did not tumble 10-12 feet down 18 steps and crash into the mail truck at the bottom of the stairs. I quickly stepped down with my right leg and balanced myself despite having my gym bag in one hand and an Amazon box in the other. I told Brad, "The muscle is exhausted from carrying around my massive girth." He said, "Stop! Don't be silly. You probably just pulled it at the gym or something." Well, whatever. All I know is that the catch phrase has gone from "Oh the knees" to "Oh the muscle running down the side of my leg."

• I heard a radio commercial yesterday for an event going on at the big church by Wal-Mart. The address is 777 the Highway. Seeing as how the church, and some day Zippys, is pretty much the only building on the highway — did they do that on purpose? Because 777 is supposed to be a good number, religiously speaking, right?

That led me to remember a conversation that I had sometime early last year with a then-4-year-old named Josh.

Josh: Um, Weah, I just wanted to tell you that I was hanging around your desk the other day and I saw the sign of the beast.

Me: What? You saw what?

Josh: The sign of the beast. You know? The sign of the beast.

Me: Yes, I know the sign of the beast. Do you?

Josh: Yeh.

I'm OK with being called Weah. Kids have trouble with the letter "L." The boy used to just skip over it and call me Eah. Personally, "ch" was my curse as a child. (Curse. Get it, Toonces? Huh? Huh?) But did that kid call me the devil?