Well that just wraps it up neat with a cute little bow on it, right? Yuck.
This is starting to feel like the death scene in a French movie. I still have four days, though, right?
By the way, Liam, our eight-year-old, caught his first fish last night, fishing with the Cub Scouts at the Rexburg Nature Park. He was ecstatic. And Dad, being the quick-witted individual that he is, FORGOT to get out the camera to take a picture of said event. So I have failed and will obviously be returned to the Daddy Store as damaged goods. I was pleased, however, that Liam kept hollering "catch and release," just like Ernest does in "Ernest Rides Again," so some of his Daddy has rubbed off on him.
Speaking of fishing, it seems Lexie has the same patience for it that Dad does: None whatsoever. My fishing philosophy revolves around that of comedian Stephen Wright's: "There's a fine line between fishing and standing on the shreo looking like an idiot." I typically fall into the idiot category.
Personally, I'm thinking Elizabeth gets one last visit with grampa, then he's gone. Why not wrap the poignancy of the Anthony/Elizabeth wedding with the bitterness of death? Now I know how those fans of soap operas feel when somebody they know is about to buy the farm.
If I am wrong, I will personally post here an embarassing photo from my childhood. I give him a week at the most, in comic strip time. Stay tuned.
