Gee Golly Gosh

It is now 5:00 in the morning, and I haven't been to sleep. It took me forever to pirate and burn that cd, and in the mean time I got busy on my Christmas cards. I have all the personalized ones personalized and addressed and all the generic "Merry Christmas! Love, Jaime" cards are signed and sealed and waiting to be addressed. I'll mail them out tomorrow....yay me, for once I didn't procrastinate (technically I didn't, because I needed to be at home to get the majority of the addresses and I did it the first night I was home).

My daddy got up at 4 to start getting ready for work, and he's the reason I'm blogging now. I came upstairs and he asked me why I was still up and I told him that I was working on my Christmas cards. Then he pointed at the Sunday paper and asked me if I'd read it. I told him that I hadn't yet and asked if there was something in there that I needed to see. He asked me, "How would you feel if you were at work and got a call that your wife had been murdered and your baby cut from her womb and kidnapped?" Obviously, I said "I think I'd feel terrible." (Lame I know, but I can't even begin to imagine how that would feel) So what does he say? "Yep, terrible. Just like not knowing whether or not your 18 year old daughter was in a car accident on the highway or if she'd been kidnapped and (insert brutal scenario here cuz I'm not typing what he really said). "

Now this begs the question...when the HELL did he become so good at laying on the guilt trip? And furthermore, when did he start giving a damn? Dammit...