Kevin went to Chicago for the Pitchfork Festival.
Actually, Jamie, Matt, Ed, Dave, and Tom went for the Pitchfork Festival. Kevin went for the baseball.
I stayed home with Miss Scarlett and Alice, which would have been fine, except they both decided to go on a poop strike. Which sounds like something you shouldn't talk about in polite society, and it is, until you have a child and a dog. And it disappears on the same day. Then it's ALL you can talk about.
So Crabby Baby, Bloated Puppy. Maybe Ang Lee will direct.
As I said to my sister, the baby has developed a personality, and that personality is pissed.
I'm desperately hoping that this latest development will resolve with a whole lot of fruit, and a change in schedule.
As for the dog, all it took was the threat of having her temperature taken.