Do try not to tell your wives you'll be home at a certain hour and want to eat in, and then call twenty minutes after the appointed time from the office saying you're about to leave.

The stir-fry's going to be a little floppy. 

However, if this is the worst thing you ever do, your wives will be grateful.  They will not remember that they are grateful, though, until well after dinner.  :)

It's my last day as Head Beeyotch in Charge (of editorial) at Top 10 Sources.  So of course I am slammed with stuff to do.  But I had a really fun night last night and want to blog about it, so if I have time later I will...

(The title of this lame entry is from a play called Museum, by Tina Howe, which I was in my sophomore year of high school.  In the play, it's the last day of the museum exhibit, and two characters go on and on about it's the "laaaaaaaaaaast day" of the show.  I still think of it every time it's the last day of anything.)