Not that I would call my time this summer anything as grandiose as a “vacation” actually: summer semester kicked my ass up and down the block, and I had about a week’s worth of respite before fall semester came barreling down on me like Michael Phelps chasing a French swimmer. But during my downtime I escaped to the pages of books, and turns out I read a whole lot more of them than I thought. (I believe the technical term for the amount I read is “fuckton”, but I digress.) So I have a lot to discuss with you.
But first, some business: my last post on the blog dealt with Gavin and his irrational fear of mustaches, and I’m sure y’all want to know what happened. I compromised and grew a goatee (no, I’m not showing you pictures) which lasted a few weeks, until I realized how much of a pain in the ass they were to keep up. Gav’s fear of facial hair is still an issue, but a minor one; at almost nine months old he looks at my father with mere suspicion instead of blood-curdling shrieks of terror. Gav must think my dad is hiding something dangerous under there.