3/1/2005 06:29:00 PM|||Amy|||I've just been spending the last hour searching for a good pizza deal online. I get a tiny bit obssesive about these things, and I will go through the Pizza Hut website for as long as it takes, and at home with a connection slowed down by the ex-husband's half million open chat windows and... er... other things, this can take a long ass time. You would think that with all the time I spend trying to find a good deal, I could just make the goddamned thing myself.

So, just as I was finishing the order (at work because I can't go home this late empty handed), my wee Bear-Boo of a Boy called to ask me to transcribe his exploratory adventures online of King Tut's tomb. I should be proud, exhilerated - but mostly I'm just tired. It's been a long day. As I type this, he wants to know if I'm getting this all down.

"Oh, yes, Honey. Of course."

He started the call by telling me that a little girl in school told him today that King Tut died because someone shoved something in the back of his head or up his nose. I didn't think that all the morbid shit started until fourth grade? I mean, I know that a first grader who wants to know all about mummification and even asked for a mummification kit for his birthday is a tiny bit different from one who asks for a Spiderman cape. Still. Bear believes that mummification is all about wrapping a mummy in long strips of linen. He hasn't made the emotional connection yet between death and loss. I'm just saying that he isn't going to be the weird, freaked out kid who stuffs firecrackers into cats and locks them in mailboxes. Or if he is, it won't be because I indulged his fascination with mummies.

He is so excited. He's just played a sound for me four times on the computer that he says was the sound of a big rock being blasted off of Mount Rushmore (now he's on a making of said mount website) that sounds suspiciously like a toilet flush. Each time he plays the sound, the more sure I am that it really is the explosive tune fading into tinkling melancholy of bodily waste being expunged into the nether world of septic tanks.

In any case, pizza has been ordered and now I must race to pick it up and deliver it to 5 hungry mouths before they start eyeing the possibilities of each other.

And my horoscope said that today was going to be a mess. I'm happy to report that while it was long, it wasn't necesarily bad. How bad can a day be that ends in King Tut, Mt. Rushmore and pizza?|||110972486493363966|||Hijacked