And now the thrilling conclusion:
“Well, Mum . . . ?”
“No, darling. You shan’t be moving out just yet. Your mother continues to squander your potential and hold you back.”
I think he did that just to spite me.
At any rate, here is his completed collection of geodes, plus one to make seven for a full museum donation. And the two portraits. I’ve heard there’s a demand for signed copies, and believe me we’ve got extras, so look for yours in the post this week.
We killed some time waiting for the well cooldown to expire by paying our respects to the giant moose-beaver in Granite Falls.
Cory and I relaxed by the fire with the tranquility of two people who know they are about to be rendered useless. You can see they’ve finally updated his work uniform. I’m not sure if that’s paint or the blood of his vanquished enemies on his shirt. He doesn’t really like to talk about work.
Jillian’s a shark at horseshoes. Who’d have thought?
At 9:45 p.m. the wishing well crushed my spirit and all my baby son’s hopes by offering me a $230 bonus in exchange for my $5000 donation.
Naturally, I handled the disappointment with grace and maturity.
We might’ve just squeaked in another wishing session before the big switcheroo, but I didn’t want to risk running over our time, so Felix banged out a few sculptures for his nest egg and Corey and I took a consolation ride in the rocket ship and we called it a night.
I feel your pain, Mary, at a close-but-no-cigar ending to the week. It’s particularly painful to know that Felix is completely done with his goals and is only waiting on his slacker mother to get on with things so he can move out. Ah, well. He’ll get a nice crop of camping mascots to take with him when he leaves us on Sunday or Monday at the latest. Tell your girls to be on their toes this week. Though we didn’t get Felix quite moved out I think you’ll agree we’ve got just the tiniest bit of a lead in this competition, and we intend to hang onto it.