The sound of silence. Well, I'm not listening to silence as I write, I'm listening to some Pet Shop Boys. Nonetheless, the house is silent for a change.
I was supposed to go bowling with Vern last night but one thing and another conspired to make that difficult. The odd bit of bug fixing for the software to satisfy a customer half a world away, the imminence of Easter and plans my wife and I had to go spend a weekend at Flagstaff. It seems that Vern went drinking with Bloggers[^] of considerably more celebrity than I! :-)
The imminence of Easter was important; the kids, both of em, were going to Palm Springs with Dad to visit Grandmum, leaving me and Sonya a little peace. I, poor innocent naive that I am, fondly imagined up until about 10 PM last night that it was going to happen.
Not a bit of it, of course. I drove home and walked into an argument. It seemed that Morgan, now 7 months or so pregnant, doesn't want to go. Perhaps I'm on shaky ground in expressing this opinion but it seems to me that if she's perfectly happy swanning around our little part of Phoenix looking like an aneurism it shouldn't make any difference if she's doing it in Palm Springs. But nope, the little princess can't face the idea of the good folk of Palm Springs seeing her in that state.
It should be pretty obvious by now that my patience with Morgan has been completely consumed. There wasn't a lot to start with but three and half years of leeching has drained it completely.
Words were exchanged; exhortations to grow up on the one side, angry denial and floods of tears on the other. I fear that Sonya and I also had some words on the subject. So I went for a walk and when I returned this[^] was the situation.
Sometime during today, and I don't know the details, Morgan suddenly disappeared. Mum didn't seem overly concerned so I let it go. We had dinner (Salmon coated in olive oil and Dill, sprinkled with lemon juice, cooked by yours truly) and wandered over to Starbucks for a hot choccy. Relaxed surroundings and relaxed conversation for a change; it turns out that the little princess is staying at a hotel somewhere nearby. My first question was 'who's paying for it?' Not that I wouldn't be glad to put the bitch up in a hotel in exchange for some domestic peace but it'd be nice to be asked. Sonya swears that Morgan is footing the bill. *shrug*
And it seems that the freeloader, having expressed unwillingness to share the hotel bill, has been given his marching orders. But I'll believe that when we've not seen him for a month!