When my wife came back from church today, she shouted "Happy Father's Day" up the stairs. It was about a quarter to noon, and she apparently expected me to be still in bed.
I wasn't: Which she discovered as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, and saw me in the north room, at (what else?) the computer.
Now, I'm going up to spend a little time relaxing in a lazy boy chair in the attic, reading. It's been a good day.
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