Tonight I figured I’d forgo the bun on my hamburger – grilled, not fried – and so made a sandwich with two big slabs of onion on each side of the hamburger tomato burger. Now I am burping. Rumbling burps. Little burps, insistent burps. I don’t know if this is typical or not, but I think, for me, it is cause and effect. Well, it was good going down.

I had beans too, with bacon bits and half a grilled hot dog. Yes, Der Bingle, I am a pig, an oinker, a porker, a sow and so forth, such as a swine. That reminds me, when Cameron rewrote Shakespeare he had himself saying “You swine.” In the first recording, it sure sounded like he said, “You slime.” I guess you had to be there . . .

Forget the blue and red designations – I looked at the national weather map a few minutes ago and Indiana is, at least for today, The Green State. We will be getting rain from the Ohio River to the Michigan line – from the Wabash and Lake Michigan to the Ohio state line.

We are going to be wet.

I hear footsteps; I think it is Cameron coming to get me to take him to school. Wait, they have paused. I hold my breath, but it is inevitable, I know. He will come. I wait . . . I hear the pencil sharpener. Soon. Soon.

Ack, we’re green . . . that means it will be a pick-up date as well.

Oh, for Pete’s sake, now Summer announces, “There’s a hole in my sock.” Think for yourself, Summer, go upstairs and grab one of Grandma’s.