Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

Conversation with Sethie before Christmas dinner: "Tom said I could borrow his bidet to keep the lasagna warm." "Ummm. His bidet?" "Oh, I meant his chafing dish. I always get those two mixed up."

I was talking to Grammy on the cell phone on the way home from the gym about 8:30pm. I had to tell her I would call her back because I was getting pulled over by the cops. The cop said he would tell me why he pulled me over after I gave him my license, registration and proof of insurance. I managed the license and the proof of insurance, but had some trouble with the registration. I handed the officer a registration from 2005. He told me it was from 2005. I said the current one might be in the glovebox. I pull out a pile of registration cards. From 2001, 2002, 2003 and 2004. I dumped out my purse on the passenger seat and started to go through all the little scraps of paper and receipts. The cop, a nice young man, got bored watching. He told me he'd pulled me over because my headlight was out. He asked me if I knew my headlight was out. A little picture of a grenade had been flashing on my dashboard for a week. I said, "ohhhh!" as the realization dawned that it was not a

A guy flirts with a girl while walking toward the weightroom. "So," he says, "I applied for a job to move cars around at the BMW dealership today, but I got turned down because I don't have a drivers license." "Ahh. What're ya gonna do." The girls shakes her head and walks a little faster. "Ummm. I was gonna lift weights," says the guy.

Last Christmas, Tom got me a Clapper. Practically before I'd gotten the wrapping paper off my gift, he'd ripped open the box and installed the Clapper in our bedroom. I could tell he'd fantasized about reclining on his pillows and clap-clapping off the lights. The Clapper lasted about one night. Just as I slid into a peaceful sleep, earsplitting claps shattered the silent night. Tom only suffered minor contusions when I popped straight up in the air and came down flailing. At a Yankee Swap, we regifted the Clapper to Tom's mother, but then Andrew stole it.

What you call Sean when he is juggling the baby and his laptop and the phone. http://mackeys.net/

When Tom came home from work on Thursday, Day One, there was a little Shitzu scratching at the sliding glass door. Tom tied a length of rope to its tagless collar, intent on walking up and down the street in search of someone in search of a lost Shitzu. He led the trusting little dog off the deck. It fell down the stairs. Turned out, it was a blind Shitzu. The search for a search party was fruitless. Tom made a little bed for the blind Shitzu in the basement. We called the cops. We found out the pound only opened at 11am Friday (Day Two), but then we got a tip from the Eisenhorn's across the street. They're animal lovers and gave us some dogfood, a large dog cage, a small dog carrier and the backline to the pound. Norma the dogcatcher answered our call at 8am, Day Two. She said to bring the blind Shitzu down there within a half an hour. Tom tied the rope to the Shitzu's collar. The happy little dog hopped around and wagged its tail excitedly. It would get to ride in the car

-----Original Message----- From: Andrew There is an unfamiliar sock in the basement bathroom. Marc, I believe it is yours. Please make arrangements for its removal on Saturday. -----Forwarded Message----- From: Marc Step away from the sock. A removal team will be dispatched.

I was giving a little tour of the house to Ray, Jesse and Michael. We reached the upstairs hallway and I announced, "And here we have the guest bathroom" and whipped open the door. Unfortunately someone was in there. Luckily, there was nothing to see. It was a short show consisting of a flash of undetermined activity. I have never had such a red face in my life. My skin hurt.

Is it deja vu? Oh, it's just the mugs. It's really 2006. Tom started out like a shot, reminiscent of Mom vs. Asphalt in Middle Creek. Unlike Mom, however, Tom remained standing throughout the entire event. Seth reeled in Tom at mile 2, for a 20:00 finish. Tom slipped in under 20:14, beating his PR by 1:45. At the start, two old guys asked Dad what he was listening to on his iPod. He had been singing along with the song. Kind of loudly. Michael Jackson propelled him to a 26:04. Except race officials got Dad's time switched with Seth's. According to race officials, Dad beat the rest of the senior crowd by a couple of minutes. Mary said she wouldn't have done it, but Dad came clean with only minor disruption of the medal ceremony. Rounding out the Rutger's Facilities Racing Team, I ran a 27:50 clock time and Mary did a 30: something. Mom sprained her ankle last week, but was involved in the photoshoots and other post-race activities.

The First Encounter Tom came home from work and it was in the house. Large, fuzzy and smelly. It occupied almost the entire livingroom. Tom was frightened. He grabbed a broom and tried to look menacing. The raccoon laughed. It sprawled out on the rug. Tom poked and yelled and finally the raccoon ran back out the cat door where it had come in. When I arrived on the scene, the raccoon hadn't gone much further than the middle of the yard. Tom and I pressed our faces against the pantry window and watched it flail around on the grass. It stumbled and drooled and headbutted a tree. That's about when I started screaming to grab that cat and check his last rabies vaccination date. Then I looked down. All over the floor were foil wrappers. Our financial planner had given us a pound of chambord-filled chocolate barrels. They were all gone. The Raccoon Develops a Taste for the Sauce The raccoon told all his friends about the wonderful elixir and tasty treats available at our place. The n

"The boats were coming into Ellis Island by the truckload." - comment by Grammy R at Thanksgiving dinner, as recounted by Seth.

"Must be Spanish." - comment by Dad, looking over an ad for a handheld Bic in the Bed, Bath and Beyond catalog.