<p>Missemily your shower / lock story reminds me of a guy that I worked with that was traveling. He got up in the middle of the night, sleepy, and went to the bathroom (he always closed the door and kept on the light so that he could find it). When he closed the door behind him was when he realized that he was in the hall, not the bathroom. He had to go to the front-desk completely naked to get a key to get back in his room… obviously, with no ID.</p>
<p>Ks I hope that you are equally successful pulling off the raccoon look. Just to try to keep up with your graphics capability… ♢♫♥♯♛</p>
<p>Jc40 Good luck. VA has a lot of history to cram. That was one of the perks of growing up in VA… there were always field trips. Also, thanx for ruining my hand patting / everything will be fine plan. I guess that means that Plan B (aka the There, There, Dear it’s OK. We’ll be home soon. plan) and Plan C (aka the Thanksgiving will be here before you know it plan) are out too? At this rate I’ll soon be down to Plan Z which involves having an actual conversation and communicating meaningful. :)</p>
<p>Momof3sons Having never been called a p*sser before, I’ll take that as a compliment. </p>
<p>Kajon Stepping on Barbie shoe pain = Lego pain.</p>
<p>All Man Cave cleaners - Be forewarned that it will be your fault when DH can’t find something in that newly cleaned room… whether you touched it or not. A pile for everything and everything in its pile, I say. I guess that I just don’t understand, not being a packrat myself. All my stuff is perfectly good and will be needed some day. Now where did I put that guitar string that I have been saving since 1978, in case I need it to tie up some tomato plants to those sticks I’ve been keepin’? Ah, there it is behind the computer equipment that the Smithsonian is gonna want someday. I bet my 300 baud modem is every bit as valuable as any Beanie Baby… just not as cuddly :)</p>
<p>Re: Treasures That would imply that I venture into the girl’s part of the house… ain’t gonna happen. I get scared back there. That square footage doesn’t exist in my mind.</p>
<p>I’m glad to know that we weren’t the only ones gullible enough to buy the AG dolls.</p>
<p>I admit it, any mental instability that my D’s have can probably be directly attributed to me playing dolls with them. We used to get out the Barbies and I would have a regular sized baby doll. We pretended that Barbie didn’t know that she was pregnant, went to the dentist and had x-rays, and ultimately had a 40’ baby that was on a rampage in the hospital (Dream House) tipping over furniture and Corvettes in the parking lot because it didn’t know any better. Think Godzilla in a pinnafore. Yes, this is a true story.</p>