The day after

The morning after was like any other at Casa Plumb. Except I slept in.

Meanwhile, downstairs Bassy and Neil were putting their finishing touches on their homework. I can't believe both of them will be graduating soon. Wow.

Time really does fly.

The other thing that's happened is that Dad finally went back to work on his memoir, Confessions of a Farm Boy. I'm not entirely sure what prompted him to do it, but I'm guessing Noah's birthday party had a little something to do with it. I haven't read everything that's in it, and I know -- even from the revelation about Billy -- that he's kept back quite a few things.

Neil rode home with quite possibly the one girl that's more screwed up than he is. I think she's Debbie Thornberry and her parents do some kind of wildlife nature show. That girl has a MAJOR chip on her shoulder.

Meanwhile, Bassy's been spending his spare time in the recording studio and strumming a few bars in the park in front of disbelieving audiences. I'm having a hard time believing that his album is about to come out. When I was his age I was spending my time in the back seat of cop cars, without a clue what I wanted out of life, so he's ahead of me there.

Thing is, though he loves music, he's not obsessed with it 24-7 like dad is. He likes computer games, too, and cartoons, and comic books. Oh, and girls. I know of at least four different girls that he talks to on a regular basis.