One door left for October, and I've had that one planned for months... You'll see why tomorrow.
Red Kate and I had a case of the sillies on the way north. First we brainstormed ways to make laundry more appealing to men: over-power the washer, paint it black, add chrome, disable safety features, incorporate a V-8 engine, add flames, or airbrushing.
And then we came up with Pimp My Stitch. This had us in hysterics the rest of the way. Things to do to a (relatively unsuspecting) sewing machine, that included: thread company decals, air brushed unicorns, or dragons, or buxom females in chain mail brassieres, or flames, a mini disco ball to hold the thread on, fuzzy dice on the presser foot lowering bar, LED lights chasing around the base, the strange free-wheeling hubcaps adapted to the hand wheel on the end... there were more, but they have faded since we thought of the flames. And the dual chrome exhaust. We couldn't figure out quite what to exhaust - fumes are hard to come by when sewing - but I thought it might just be a dummy thing, and you could drop dry ice into a little water in the bottom and get fog even if you didn't get a great rumbling roar.
Circus class was fun too. We agreed it was not possible to hide anything from anyone you were doing partner acrobatics with, as we grabbed each other's feet and placed them where we could balance on them.
Poor Al has a mouthful of metal. His dentist managed to talk him into braces, and has already managed to pop two of the little doo-dads off his teeth, one with a sandwich at lunch, and later one with the water-pik after chinese food for supper. He may not last the full two years. Heck, at this rate, he may not last the week.
Ah well. As Andy pointed out, sometimes life is a tea party, sometimes it isn't.