Selfish bastards

So here I had the end of my summer all planned out. Two of my best friends, E. and B. (the latter of whom recently impregnated the former) were returning this week from Toronto and Bolivia, respectively. This meant that B. could help M and me move furniture, which he promised to do in exchange for us feeding his cat--to which we're both allergic--and watching his house while he's off anthropologizing. It meant that E. and B. could both come see my show, and it meant that I could finally have my friends back in Nowhere after a somewhat stir-crazy Wisconsin summer.

Unfortunately, they have had the gall to have somewhat demanding lives themselves. B. has been holed up with some kind of Bolivian gutbug, and the steadily growing krill inside E. decided to emerge early and announce herself as a 3 lb, 13 oz human called Maddy. So while the father scrambles to Canada, leaking gutbug juice, and the mother oversees the graduation of the new person to home-going status, we take care of the damned cat and have to find someone else to help with the move. How dare they?

Seriously, I couldn't be more excited to see the kid and I'm fair to bursting with joy. Anyone want to help with a move?