just call me K-Ho


Karis walked into the house today wearing a baseball helmet, holding a football, and asking Mark to play basketball.  I would say she takes after me in her confusion about sports, but let’s be honest: I wouldn’t even be asking to play.

We’re all a little under the weather right now – I’ve been sick and in my pj’s all day and India thinks the “frog in my voice” is very funny.  I spent a rare weekend on the sofa with the remote in hand, being systematically disappointed by Portlandia and then a Coen Brothers flick and then The Grammy Awards.  (Every year watching the Grammys just serves to make me feel very, very old.  Gold teeth, the whore clothes, emo men in eyeliner, Lady Gaga wearing a boney shoulder prosthetic, hip-hop nicknames for grown adults . . . and all of it with NO HINT OF IRONY.   It all frightens me, I tell you.)

Anyways, I’m thinking our Valentine’s Day may not be our most romantic day of the year.  I’ve definitely got the chills . . . but not in a good way.  Hope your day is hotter than mine! And not from fever.

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