Where's Amy?

I'm sitting in my bedroom watching the girls giggle and wrestle with one another on our bed. Hey Julie by Fountains of Wayne is playing on iTunes. I just glanced down at my foot and it's involuntarily twitching in time to the music. It's cold outside but we're all warm, well-fed and can remain that way without much effort for what seems to be a long, long time.

How long will this last?

Not long. The moment has past. It was a good one. But now I'm yelling at the girls and telling them they're going to break their necks if they fall off the bed. Deb just came in and gave me the evil eye for letting Allie stay up so long after her bedtime.

How long will this last?

Not long. Now I'm typing and all I can think about is you. What kind of moments are filling your evening? Google brought you here but you can't find that post regarding Amy Carter and you really don't feel like weeding though anything here to find it. So you point you browser to CNN to see if anything has happened since the last time you checked (seven minutes ago).

Now what?

I don't know. And I probably won't find out. After all, this thing really only works one way. And that's fine because I'm not really in the mood for company right now.

All I really want to do is clean the lint out of my belly button lint and hit the hay.

The fact that I discovered that I really hate Scott McClellan today doesn't really mean much right now. I don't hate anyone, really. But seeing him and listening to the sound of his voice makes me crazy. Like those people driven to convulsions by Mary Hart. I was always more of a Dee Dee Myers type guy. And anyone who patronizes Helen Thomas deserves a kick in the nads.

For so many reasons I will be happy when this administration goes the way of the Dodo and every last remnant is swept away and forgotten. Like, unfortunately, the Carter administration. . .

Did you know Amy Carter and I got married in the same year?

It's true!