...renegotiated. Apparently I'll get two pairs of comfort-fit jeans and an XXL brown suede waistcoat every three months in exchange for a strictly above-waist video link appearance at the retail salespeople's convention. That's disappointing.
At sundown I was in my battered straw hat, laying in a hammock and petting a chipmunk when Brittany came outside and sat on the grass beneath me. "Are you tense dad?" she said. I'm getting increasingly perplexed by all the enquiries about my mental wellbeing. I looked over the side at her. Why do you ask, sweetie, I said, a mite testily. Because that hammock isn't attached to anything, she replied.