Fair Warning

On Wednesday we are on our way to Amarillo. I'd like to provide my friends and family the following warning:

I know you love us. You wouldn't have invited us to stay with you otherwise, but I'd like to give you the opportunity to reconsider. I know we were there just a year ago, but we're bigger, and we're badder and we're louder than ever. Please note the following example.

Uncle J had us over for dinner last night. We waited till close to the grill lighting hour to show up, to limit our opportunities for mischief. First stop, the water cooler. Filling paper cups and drinking copious amounts of cold water until tummies were so full that we switched to filling any container that could be filled with water. There was much going in and out of doors letting out all the air conditioning. There was lots of rearranging of items we shouldn't be touching. Then they found the remote controls. At the end of the evening, Uncle J's satellite receiver wasn't working. He said "Oh, it's probably just been hit by too much lightening." Coincidence? I think not. They dumped a cooler full of ice and water onto the carpet in the living room. They spilled full glasses of tea onto the good linens. Their Dad did an erie impersonation of his Dad yelling "GET OUTSIDE AND STAY OUTSIDE!" There was crying and whining and burping and yelling and one ear splitting scream.

I'll just cut to the chase. They're animals. Ill behaved, poorly trained animals. It's the worst circus act you'll ever see. The trainer should be shot.

If you'd like to send me an email later and let me know that you've got a plumbing problem that just can't be corrected till the following week, I'll completely understand. Having the house fumigated? No problem. I have a couple of hotels on stand-by.