Twisted Teapot

image from the web

"The trouble with you staying here on Thursday nights," says my son Everett to me, "is that we stay up too late."

We'd been talking and laughing for hours, and neither of us wanted to call it a night, but it was a "school night" after all, and so around 11:30 we wrapped it up. He ascended to his mattress on the floor upstairs, and I stretched out on the mattress on the living room floor. The lad still doesn't have his house set up in any manner I find comfortable, but he's content and that's what matters.

Yesterday he got a haircut and had his ugly beard shaved off, and now he is a babyface again.