That's the sort of thing you'll hear around my house, these days. That's Percy, Paul, Yo Jimbo, and Trogdor (and John and Tim in the back). The boys could hardly wait to fire that starting gun for the lobster race they'd anticipated, before dinner, but it turns out lobster races are somewhat anticlimactic; it was more fun watching Minx pat them all on their heads, and seeing if they can hold a wine glass in their claws (they can).
Only a few days left, and we're doing all the partying and dining out and dining in and laughing and visiting that we can before Brian heads back to Iraq. We're shrugging off dreading our farewells, and making the most of the time we have left. The clock is ticking though, so this entry's a short one: I have to get about having some more fun.