Darth Punkin started the week off coming down with "something". It kicked into full over-drive on Thursday night. Friday morning she's kicking out 102.3 degree fever, with a cough that would make a seasoned smoker wince. The fever bounced all over - up to 104.3 and back down to 101.5, then up to 103.1 - all in a day. Needless to say, she did not get to go Trick-Or-Treating.
The Meal Ticket was working OT this a.m.; came home early 'cause Darth wanted her to. The boy appears to be feeling somewhat ok, but the Meal Ticket and I are quickly catching up to the Darth. Casa del Shanahan seems to be celebrating Pork-A-Poolza! Bacon-Fluenza central!!!!
Not that it can be nailed down to it, but a general feeling of crappiness is running rampant. Darth's pediatrician feels that it could be the H1N1, but who really knows. Anyhoo..... the whole place needs to be quarantined. The booze is helping me, but the Meal Ticket doesn't think we should let the she-child self medicate.
The Dude, feeling just friggin' chippier, made out like a bandit. The neighbor (Dude's "girlfriend") and her husband (Dude's mortal enemy) took him Trick-Or-Treating around downtown. They brought back a bag for Darth, while feeling much better, was quite happy.
Enough of the "My Family and The Plague" crap! On to the truly great part of the week.
The Meal Ticket, having asked if I had heard from our real estate agent this week, proceeded to email her and find out how things were progressing with Rancho del Grandma - my grandmother's house that is quite close to being repo'd by the banks!
As much as the reply email was less than stellar, it was by all means the high point of the whole exchange. It seems the buyer's mortgaging bank called his employer to verify employment, employer stated that the guy (our friggin' buyer) might be getting laid off soon - or not. This came as a news flash to Mr. Buyer, when his real estate agent had to tell him this. Our agent informs us, that they are trying everything possible to get a co-signer and proceed with the sale.
This all takes place with a bunch of emails between the Meal Ticket and our agent, with me being cc'd. I finally get a call from the agent in the early afternoon - repeating everything, and more - that was said in the emails. Constantly reassuring me that the other side was trying to move forward. They really wanted to close this deal before the really cold weather kicked in.
Then the attorney calls.
Seems, unbeknown to our agent, Mr. Buyer's agent and attorney had contacted our attorney saying the deal was done. The bank was not going to give them the mortgage.
Some days, there's just not enough beer!
Then, you see a green crayon who's hiding his mask and super-powers; it makes up for it!
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