Tonight, we went down the road a few miles to Corona del Mar. It's our new favorite place in California.

Yesterday I made some fish,
And didn’t cook it in a dish.

I didn’t cook it in the sink
I didn’t cook it with some mink.

I made it in a frying pan.
(I’m not a woman; I’m a man).

Nothing was that supposed to mean.
Don’t tear out my manly spleen.

Anyway, I cooked and cooked,
And looked and looked.

I read my Betty Crocker book,
Still too long it took to cook.

Then, connected did the missing link.
Salmon’s always rightly pink!

Not a true story.

Apparently, Sarah has a number of meetings this week. I know this, because yesterday, when I asked her how her day went, our conversation was, verbatim, as follows. “I have 17 meetings in the next three days! I meeting the meeting when the meeting meeting! Meeting!!! Meeting??!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!” I replied, “Well, I thi…” “No! Meeting meeting meeting meeting.”, came the reply.

I won't say she sounded like the teacher in Peanuts ("Whah whanh whah, whannnh whahnn whann."), but I will say that she'll be glad when they're over.

Sarah successfully navigated her first IEP. Sometime, I’ll have to ask her what that is actually an acronym for; as of now, we’ll just say Individual Educational Plan, either that, or I Eat Peas. Yes, the latter is probably true: a teacher, some parents, and a few administrators get together for vegetable consumption. The problem is, Sarah doesn’t like peas.