the ayes have it

I had to go to the city aldermen’s meeting tonight. I tried really hard to look interested in water works and SCADA and SCUD or whatever. Whenever they voted, they would raise their hands for "aye" and the mayor would say, "All ayes." I was terribly disappointed that he never said "The ayes have it." Or, at the very least, "All ayes on me." I’m also always disappointed when the commissioners don’t turn on the bat signal, even though I realize the county commissioners are not the kind of commissioner I’m thinking of. Then I spend a sad hour remembering that Batman is fictional. I have an hour allotted every day for reminding myself of things that are fictional. The other 23 hours are spent in zanity and wacktitude.
When writing about the fireworks exploding in the yard and nearly killing us all, I didn’t mention that it was my Dad’s fault because he put the rocket in the tube upside down. I thought he wouldn’t want the world to know he had done that, but he e-mailed me (from Chicago, two weeks ago he was in New Orleans, and before that, the moon) and pointed out to me that I’d forgotten to mention it. Alright, but you asked for it…
I came into work this morning and found my chair had been raised, but not all the way up this time. Whoever is doing it is getting cleverer.
Here’s something Lane told Mom today: I’m going to be in kindergarten. And then I’m going to be in sixth grade (his cousin had just told him she was in sixth grade). Then I’m going to be in high school, then I’m going to get a girlfriend. Then I’m going to China.
I shouldn’t be up so late, but I figure I can at least make it to my nap tomorrow afternoon. I’m taking a nap, scheduled for 1:45 p.m. It will involve a dentist’s chair and anesthesia.
"Obsess much?" she asks herself.

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