SH has returned from the Mighty Ski Trip of Ought - um -- of Ten. He stayed the night in Denver at Mike's house. Mike's wife is an awesome hostess - two little girls, sick, and yet she puts up an unexpected guest overnight.
SH's workout routine of walking down the stairs from his second-story office to the basement to get the Dill Pickle Pringles he had hidden from himself did not quite get him into the shape he needed to be for a day of skiing, so by the time he and Mike returned from the slopes to Mike's house, he was a little pooped and driving another hour and a half to my mom's all of a sudden seemed not such a good idea.
So he got back here about 11:30 a.m., which meant we missed going riding with my uncle, although SH might not exactly have been in the best of shape for getting on a horse if you know what I mean.
SH: Hey! You didn't kiss me!
Me: Yes I did.
SH: No you didn't.
Me: Oh. Right. I slapped you on the butt. Well, that's almost the same thing.