An email to my mother...

Last night, I composed an email to my mother, who called me in the middle of the busiest day I've had in months to ask whether I had a few minutes to tell her where we would be staying on our long-weekend getaway to Vegas and perhaps chat for a bit about the events of the day. I have, finally, at 9:03 p.m., managed to assemble a comprehensive and informative answer, which should lay to rest any questions she has and waylay any and all of her concerns. It reads:

To: My mother
From: Me (naturally)
Subject: Las Vegas

I have, at this time some twelve or fourteen hours before our flight leaves, absolutely NO idea where we're staying, or what flight we're on, or when we leave, arrive, leave again, or arrive again. It's possible that we're staying in the Savoy, or maybe I only think so because I'm watching The Importance Of Being Earnest while I pack. It's possible that we're flying on Vision airlines, or maybe I just think so because that's the name of an album by Queen and it sounds comfortingly familiar. I suspect that if you really, desperately need to get in touch with us, the best route would be to call one or the other of our cell phones. Mine is XXX-XXX-XXXX. I remain passably certain that we will be in Las Vegas... somewhere. Also, I may just have packed a toothbrush and some Neosporin with which to clean my teeth.

Loyally Yours,

Michael

Perforce, there were very likely be no further posts on this blog until at least the middle of next week. Still, you're all lovely people, and very bright and capable, and I'm sure you'll all find ways to muddle through without me. You are welcome to assume that I shall be thinking of you fondly, or even missing you desperately, while the Beautiful Woman and I finally take a well-earned vacation together, but I'm afraid that simply won't be the case. Do take care of yourselves while we're away, though. With any luck, we'll both return happy and refreshed and perhaps even coherent.