On Black Eyes, Celebrity Stalkers & Hunky Cops

I thought vacations were supposed to make you feel better.

TP: Little Man, you don’t look so good. What happened?

LM: Vacation, doc. That’s what.

TP: Your parents took you on another vacation?

LM: No, no! Once was enough. No, this was just the two of them. Me? I did the Home Alone routine. Alone, that is, except for the schizophrenic alternating pit stops of the “keep it moving, convict” former prison guard/slop server in the mornings and the idyllic “I can almost see the happy birds flying merrily about and hear the Seven Dwarfs whistling while they work” Disney lady in the evenings.

TP: Disney lady? Oh, Snow White.

LM: That’s what they call her. You think I look bad now…imagine if I didn’t have her coming by each day to buck me up and offer a little TLC.

TP: Well, your parents are back now, right?

LM: More or less. Mom walked in the other night with a black eye; Dad came limping in with some foot problem and moaning that he didn’t feel good.

TP: Black eye? Read more →