and he didn't kill me. He didn't find my package either, so everything's pretty much like I expected it to be. Except, I think that a small part of me may be evil.

He was REALLY FREAKED OUT about it, claiming this was the first time he's flat out lost something. I actually felt kind of sorry for him. At one point he looked at me and said in a pleading voice, "Please tell me it was something replaceable?"

This is where the "evil" comes in... For a split second, I had the horrible, nearly irresistable urge to tell him that it was my Grandma's ashes or some other equally devastating lie. But, I controlled myself and assured him that it was just pictures we were waiting on so we could assemble our group's yearbook. The look of relief on his face made me glad I'd kept my dark side under wraps...

...this time! Mua ha ha ha ha!!!!! and cut.

Sorry, that just sort of called for a cliffhanger ending. Really I'm just going to go take a shower and try to get on with the relaxing portion of my day without the kids...