Decibels

Is it because I worked all day out in the real world with real adult people, engaging a creative scientific part of my brain, being appreciated and knowing that I've actually done a good thing? or is it just plain exhaustion?  Why do I feel like cutting my ears off so I won't have to hear 120 decibels of my son going ballistic with my husband singing soprano in his falsetto to get him to calm down?

Thank God for Choucroute Garni.  I failed to tell you that yesterday, as I was sipping on a smokey buttery glass of Dumol Chardonnay, watching the sun glisten off the Pacific waves, in between writing you about the fish I was going to eat, I cut onions and garlic and glorious chunks of pork products.  By the time he got home, the house was perfumed with Choucroute and I was comfortably toasted.  No, we can't eat that tonight!!  It has to cool down and chill overnight!  Really, it's part of the recipe!  It has nothing to do with the fact that I want to come home to a steaming bowl of hot, smokey comfort after work.  OK, it would have been cruel not to let him try a bowl.

Since Nancy never did send over Grandma Fanney's recipe, last night I ate a whole bag of sunflower seeds in bed with the news.  They were salty and the scale registered at 60% water this morning.  After that and tonight's Choucroute, I think I might have to fill my bathtub with cranberry water, attach a hose from it to my mouth, and sleep on the toilet tonight.  Maybe I'll stop being thirsty by the morning.