I have been editing a piece that is so far out of my comfort zone that I am simply pretending that the words I don't understand are written in a foreign language. Because basically they are. Science. Don't get me wrong, I believe y'all that the world is round and gravity keeps our feet on the ground and that there are black holes and Bermuda Triangles (c'mon, they are sorta the same, right?) somewhere out there. But please don't explain it to me. Because I already have trouble keeping track of all the stuff I really want in my head. The rest of it, I'm counting on someone else to know but have no need to share that knowledge with me. Like Duke. Poor Duke. He tried to tutor me in my remedial math classes that I had to take before I could even move on to Math for Dummies in college. I think he may have tried to use Sex and the City analogies for awhile:

Okay, now if Carrie is X and Mr. Big is Y-

and I would interrupt with, "Which season Carrie? Because I don't like the season that she had really bad hair and Miranda was a man. Can she be wearing her fur coat?"

It's amazing that I was inducted into Phi Kappa Phi, is it not? Thank God for whichever side of the brain knows language.

Anyway, I have been on a tear lately. I've been doing a couple of miles on the treadmill every single day. I've started cooking again.

Speaking of Mort, he does so delight me in thoughts and deeds. We were running errands and because he cooperated, we were allowed to LOOK at the toys. He, not surprisingly, saw a new-fangled Bakugan that he desperately wanted.

"Buddy, you don't even play with the ones you already have. I just don't think it's a good idea to get another one." Don't I sound like such a parent?

And he stared at the Bakugan for a moment and then looked up at me and said, "Yeah. They seem so exciting when they're in there, " here he gestured at the package, "but then when you open them, they really aren't."