Death and taxes

Tax day. I owe more that ever this year. I'm all messed up. I'm thinking about having a couple of kids just for tax purposes. After reading the tax forms, I remarked to my mom that I need to be blind to take advantage of the tax break. But blindness and paralysis would yield the most unholy results, so maybe I should simply settle for marrying a blind man. We'd be a brilliant pair. We'd make a complete being. My mom told me not to joke like that. I'm obviously insensitive AND unfunny.

The weekend was good. I hung out with the whole family at Steph and Vince's house on Friday night. We had veggie lasagna which was really just as delicious as the original. Steph is shaping up into a very good cook. During dinner, we had a 20-minute discussion about time-travel, a subject near and dear to my dad's heart. Turns out his greatest desire is to create a workable time machine and then snub the press. No interviews for anyone! He'd find a small-town reporter to deal with and make his career. Megan's roommate's 13-year-old nephew Aaron was fascinated with the topic and he and my dad argued logistics for quite awhile. I am really not at liberty to reveal any more of the conversation because my dad doesn't want the government to get involved in his plans or confiscate his machine...which may or may not exist. We were sworn to secrecy although I do not know if Aaron is trust-worthy.

Zeke and his cat cousins got along okay although, to begin with, neither party was very comfortable with the other. By Sunday though, Hitler wanted to play. So when Zeke followed him into the dining room to smell his butt, Hitler turned around, got up on his hind legs, and "WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!" delivered a few clawless smacks to the face. Zeke looked at me in shock and was quite offended for the next hour.

Rebecca and Megan went away and did whatever it is they do on Friday nights while the rest of us went to bed. I couldn't sleep. It might have been because I was in another bed or maybe because Zeke was busy burrowing under the blankets down to my feet. There was no clock in my bedroom, but at what felt like 1 a.m., my cell phone rang. It was Russ, who informed me that it was only 11:30 p.m. my time and was shocked I was in bed. Like I party at 11:30 on a Friday. Please. I need all the beauty sleep I can get.

Rebecca took my parents motorcycle shopping on Saturday which, if you know Rebecca, you find as amusing as I do. She weighs maybe 100 pounds. I took Steph area rug shopping at 2 different IKEAs. You poor mid-westerners. There are three (3) IKEAs in the Philadelphia area. Two in the Washington DC area. How many out west? Hmmm. But anyway, we were not happy with the selection. That being said, if you know where to get a great 8x10 area rug for less than an arm and a leg, leave me a comment.

The whole family went to Steph and Vince's church on Easter Sunday. To avoid the after-church crowds, we thought about eating lunch at Hooter's but opted to go back to the house instead. Eating at Hooter's on Easter Sunday seems wrong on several different levels.

Megan would like me to point out that this week is Philadelphia Entrepreneurship Week, an event she's been coordinating for months now. (Since nobody can spell Entrepreneurship...or maybe that's just me, here's the link) I think she's stressed out about its success. If you're in the Philly area, be kind enough to get out and participate in one of the events. Megan's worked hard. Go Megan!

Lastly, if you haven't completed your taxes, get crackin'. Who wants to get hauled to jail for tax evasion when you could end up in the same place for something so much more fun like a nude sprint across the White House lawn, money laundering, or plain ol' burglary. Choose your crime carefully, that's all I'm sayin'.