Day 9, Tuesday, 9:15 PM
Whew, Iâ€™m all birthday-ed out. I think I have a stomachache from all the cake. I didnâ€™t feel right just having a piece of Bernieâ€™s cake, so I had a piece of Weezyâ€™s, too. I didnâ€™t want her to feel left out!
By the way, Uncle Elvis is a baking GOD. (And a raking god, too. I swear thatâ€™s all he did today: bake and rake.)
Day 8, Monday, 9:14 PM
I wasnâ€™t kidding last time when I called our house the loony bin. This house is a bin if I ever saw one, and we are the loonies. LOO-NIES. I could give you more evidence of that, but first I want to tell you all about my completely weird job.
After my phone conversation with Joel, a very sad and very decrepit carpool car picked me up from the loony bin, drove me out into the country, and deposited me in front of this hulking yellow villa that seemed to rise up out of nowhere.
I wandered towards what I hoped was the â€œofficeâ€ entrance of the house, but I wasn’t sure, because there weren’t any signs anywhere. I mean, how do you choose between two front doors? Thankfully, I picked the right one. (Hey, thereâ€™s a first time for everything.)