Yes, but are the Trains Running on Time?

Ok, here's the plan: We're going in tomorrow afternoon and they'll start primin' ye olde pump on Sunday morning. If all goes according to plan, we'll have Max Dos unleashed upon an unsuspecting universe later on that day.

Max still has a fever and he's very happy about that. Mother has been, thanks to the atom-splitting power of hormones, much like a cyclone. Except this cyclone is stuck at home with a clingy, feverish toddler. This type of behavior does not facilitate cleaning and re-arranging the refrigerator while crying, BUT WE DO IT ANYWAY AND WE DO NOT ASK WHY! DO. NOT. ASK. WHY. DON'T YOU KNOW THIS BABY IS GOING TO TURN MAX INTO A WEREWOLF? OH, GOD! WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS? IS THIS LETTUCE?!

Well, Max has a fever and there's a new baby coming, we'll be fiiiinnne. This is nothinggg. At least we still have both cars running. . . oh, huh? You say both cars are on the fritz? Ah, well: put your head down and power through. At least there's not going to be 8 inches of snow on the ground.. . . . what's that you say? Metro area under winter storm warning? Eight inches of snow followed by sleet coming tomorrow? Welllll, at least the Democrats got elected this fall and are really standing up to the Republicans, right? If I were in the Brian Jones Town Massacre, this is where I would stop the show, smash my guitar and challenge the whole audience to a fist fight.

See, Katie, thinks all this is an omen (cue scary music). Me? Eh: I just wish you could get a car to start by staring at the engine for a few minutes. Perhaps I could take Max's train.