Satin Bedspread plus Satin Jim Jams Equals Nightmares of Luge

Before I say anything else, let me just say that my night at the rock gym reaffirmed my desire to remain ever childless. One dad and 4 boys under 11 and HOLY SHIT, isn't it passed their bedtime? How about now? Now? Oh, sweet Jesus, please. just. stop. yelling. and. running.

But on to how awesome my friends are...
Last night Forrest had us over to celebrate his 50th birthday. And what better way to celebrate than with single malt (Laphroaig, yesssss!) and some yummy olde wine that he mined from his cellar just for the occasion. The best part? We drank out of glasses USED BY ERNEST HEMINGWAY! Yes, apparently, he stayed at Forrest's mother's house in Idaho and drank (himself not exactly to death) out of the very glasses we were using. Despite the possibility of having some "Papa" in me, I dare say my writing has not improved much. But on the other hand, I don't have any great desire to shoot myself. So, there you go.

Having not learned my lesson with Jack's cheesecake, I went and made Forrest a Boston Cream Pie. It came out ok, except the custard was a bit more like creme brulee than I would have liked... and sort of lumpy. But surrounded by cake it was alright. I allowed that Jesus wouldn't mind of I had a teeny bite, just to see how it all went together. I was not struck down, but am not holding my breath for all of eternity.