So much for quiet introspection; for letting the gentle passing of time reveal our destiny. Escrow closes in 32 days! Picture me: open palms holding my face with mouth gaping and eyes popping. 32 days! Apart from feeding and educating children, collecting eggs, pulling weeds and plucking stray eyebrow hairs, I have got to get my booty on the fast track. The weight of this news is so heavy that I have spent the last twenty minutes laying face down on the sofa.
Max is sick. He threw up 3 times at 0-dark hundred, and two more times today. Last night I ambitiously, confidently marked our calendar with all the important dates for surviving a 60 day escrow. It seems appropriate for fate to cut the number of days down, and toss some vomit our way too. My new game plan? Keep a towel and a wide bowl next to Max, and wander around the house saying, "Oh my God. Oh my God."
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