I'm at Dad's house. I hate Dad's house with a passion. The only good things about it are the food and the cable. I could care less about the food, because there is nothing to do here but eat anyway. The cable is sort of OK, but there's only so much enjoyment to be derived from waiting for Invader Zim to come on. I'd much rather be back at Mom's

Hee hee hee . . . I coulda said the same thing about every time I got roped into housesitting for my own paternonfamilias, except that there's NO FOOD, and plenty of free Internet. And it's always a relief to get back to the nest.