An Open Letter To My Fellow Turnpike Motorists

I have two questions for you:

1) Why do you pee on the floor at rest stops? What kind of demented person would pull his car over, park it, walk to the restroom, stand in front of a long line of functioning urinals, and then elect to let loose on the tile? Good Lord!! You're gross and I hate you.

2) Why, oh why, do you pull up behind me and ride my bumper at 75 until I'm forced to move to the right lane, only to then zoom ahead, swerve in front of me, and set your cruise at 68? What kind of person would do this?? What in the name of all that is rational could be going through your head? Are you intentionally chewing on my spirit? Did God send you here to destroy me?

Well, to both groups, or perhaps it is the same group of people doing both of these things--or maybe even a single person following me around, switching cars and hairstyles from time to time to stay incognito--I hate you. I hate you. I don't even know you but I hate you. I hate your guts. I hope all the bad things in life happen to you, and only to you.

North Carolina was a good time. Double the babies, double the fun. They're only a couple months apart but Natalie is still so little it looks like Gwen could consume her whole. To be fair I guess it also looks like Gwen could consume me whole--Gwen is an awesomely chubby baby. She is the Michelin Baby. It was good to see the rest of the fam as well. And we had delicious, delicious Maggiano's--suck on that, Kel!!