So, last night it was the dogs who smelled up the joint, tonight it's J, the newest Chinese food delivery man in town. He just walked in and I swear he smells exactly like General Tso's Chicken. Who was General Tso, anyway (I don't know the etiquette of naming food after people, but I assume it's an honor bestowed posthumously)? I guess he was probably a little bit sweet and a little bit spicy. J is mostly just sweet. He was born that way -- happy, easygoing, laid back -- and it serves him well.
For the past few days I've done practically nothing but work on J's yearbook ad. I do believe I mentioned that it was due last Friday, but the queen of extensions got an extension. The page is done now, nothing left to do but glue down the pictures, and I'm really happy with the way it turned out. Ridiculous to put that much effort into it, especially when no one will look at it for more than a split second except me, but I'd know if I didn't do a good job. It would stick in my craw. Perfectionist that I am, good enough simply doesn't cut it. Perhaps 50 will mellow me.
Putting together this ad has been a real tear jerker. I've been going through all our old pictures, reminiscing, smiling, laughing, and thinking about how much I'm going to miss this sweetheart of a big boy when he leaves for college next year. I'm so proud of my kids, and it's amazing to watch them grow, but right now I'm wishing we could stop the clock. I don't want them to leave me.
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