Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow, its only a day a-waaaaaaaaaaaay.
Too bad you can't hear me singing it. Well, maybe its a good thing you can't hear me singing it. My boarding pass is printed, and if my flight is on time, I'll be in the air at this moment tomorrow, on my way to meet Hardy.
Meadow doesn't care. She has expressed concern that we are putting away some of her favorite toys, like my old knee-highs, which she likes to steal and dump in the water bowl, or carry around like they are mice. We're more concerned about how she will respond when we put away her two "Ron Paul for President" bracelets. (They aren't ours!!) When Hardy is sleeping, we promise her we will get them out for a game of fetch.
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