Last night, all is peaceful and serene in my world. The kids are in bed, trying NOT to fall asleep, Chris is with Dillon, I am on the couch under the afghan my grandmother crocheted. It's dark. It's warm. I have the t.v. tuned into the weather channel (does this happen when you get old?) and the volume turned down low. I am just lying there enjoying the end of the day, all wrapped up in the sublime normalcy and routine of it all. And then...about five feet from my head, just outside the living room window, while sitting on the front porch...."Angel" cut loose. I swear her howl was adapted from watching every wilderness horror movie ever made. The hair on my arms stood up. I kid you not.
It's alright though, we are getting new furniture, nobody ever has to know about the wet spot/stain on the couch!
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