Haha! Father Phillip, you make my day! At last year’s MOM PROM, Cor (where I just passed out name tags…Can’t wait until little Donny’s a Senior so he can take his mother out on real a date!) I couldn’t tell if Father Phillip here was just in a dance-y mood or flirting with me! The way you moved! 75 and you can still cut a rug! I tell you Father, you can cut this rug any day of the week.

What? You like my hair…oh! And my skirt? Yes, it is new! Thank you! No one’s noticed. Ha! Well, maybe I can wear it to one of your van parties you always take the other moms on. What? You know! The van parties! Don’t play dumb with good ol’ Cheryl, Father. I live behind the school, and I see EVERYTHING! Every Tuesday, you get all dressed up and take the bookstore moms out for dinner or something. They’re all dressed up too. And then you come home alone in a different van- yeah, and- What? How many people saw what? Oh… Oh! I see, now that I’ve busted those lovely chops of yours you want me to tag along now. Hah! Well, you’ll have to do a better than that to win me over! I’ve seen you with hundreds of moms over the years and- OH!
– Well, bye, Father!

That was weird. Well, he certainly looks HEALTHY! I wonder if he still works out at the Y. When he married Frankie and I, Father Phillip was the spitting image of Gregory Peck. At the reception he gave me a couple congratulatory smooches on the neck, and I said, “Peck away, Father!” Haha! Now he looks so old, the boys call Phillip “Father Free Day,” because they think he’ll drop dead at any moment, and the boys will get the day off from school. Isn’t that terrible? It’s a nice way to be remembered though.

Wow, I just can’t put Madame Bovary down! I was reading for the last few minutes before Father Phil walked up so I didn’t hear most of what you just said. “Sorry, my B!” as Donny would say. But you have i-Everything? I might have to borrow one of your iPods so I can get Bovary on tape and listen to it in the bathtub. Some of it is getting AWFULLY STEAMY! I mean, the narrator doesn’t say it explicitly, but the husband and wife, Mrs. Bovary, first touch at her home while she’s bending down to get something…and their sex-life must be JUST wild after that! I think she’ll be a pretty content woman with an “experienced” doctor (he was married once before, you know. And that must have taught him a few things. Not like some people who take their first swing on the wedding night. UUUGgghhhhhhh…Ffff…). I wonder if Kenneth Branagh reads it. He always revs up my engine.

Corinne, are you crying?

Thank you for noticing my hair! That's why you're the best. Horatio's the only man who knows how to trim this bush on top of my head. I swear, I went in so frazzled it was like I'd been sleeping inside a Dutch Oven!

When I came home after an hour of Horatio's finger magic, I didn't think anyone had noticed the work he did. I think it looks wonderful, but Frankie just kissed me hello and didn't say a word. I almost slapped him upside the noggin! My little Donny boy though, he noticed. But I could tell he was too embarrassed to say anything because his little friends were over. They always look so red in the face when I come in the room, it's like they can hardly move their eyes, they're so focused on that TV! I don't know what to say, so I just make cookies and leave them to their Nintendo.

Anyway, Horatio is a riot! He is always giving me books so we have something to talk about the next time I come in (because once it got really awkward when he brought up his boyfriend and I couldn't just let it slide. I'm so curious about that lifestyle, not that I condone it necessarily. Anywhoo, you know). Last time he gave me The Notebook (what a sweetie-pie. And he understands so many of those intricate details of the relationships! I mean, the stuff he came up with! It's a shame he'll have to become a priest someday), but this week he gave me Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven, and let me tell you it is dark. I mean DARK. I'm not finished with it yet, but everyone in the book is dead already or talking about these tragedies, like this blue guy at a carnival. I'll give it to you when I'm done. Horatio promised a satisfying ending.

It's better than what they have Donny reading: that Catcher in the Rye business! Why are they always depressing kids with these books. I got to page 50 and was so offended I put it down! And you know how good I am about finishing novels. Really, I just can't see why anyone would be interested in silly sad people. If the kids need to read something sad in class, they should read Man's Search for Meaning. You know, the one about the Holocaust. Now that's a subject that our kids don't know enough about, and I think it's about time we assigned them more books about a tragedy like that: one that actually affects them.

By the way! Getting your carpet steamed is one of the worst days of the year! I feel for you. I'm always going around the house, picking up clothes and telling my husband and Donny to please help me sweep, but Donny's so snippy: "Why? It's the carpet cleaner's job." Sometimes, it's like they can't even hear me. It's like when the maids come to the house, and I have a very strict policy on cleaning up before they come, and both men of the house are like " why clean before the cleaners?" And I have to explain every time: "it's what I do!" You just can't get it through to them. You know?

You should see Horatio sometime! It would wonders!