It may not have been the fuck-feast of Costa Rica, but my ass can't really tell the difference. Sore is sore.
Seriously though, it was a fabulous vacation. I know I speak for Peter and Gus in saying that you outdid yourself. Which I know you know
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Back to reality tomorrow. Pittsburgh in late winter/what passes for early spring.
By the way, since we are both at a point now where birthdays don't matter, let's never discuss them again.
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Yes. All four of us.
I think maybe I could possibly give up discussing birthdays, but I kind of very much like it when you give me presents.
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Yes, I know YOU think it was "touching" that Gus wanted his mommy's casserole instead of the Chinese I wanted to order. And you gave me such a winning smile when I told Lindsay it was "just like mom used to make."
Unfortunately, I was telling the truth - it really WAS just like mom used to make.
Mom's tuna casserole always made me vomit, too.
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The casserole wasn't THAT bad. My mom's is better, of course. But really Brian, you didn't even try to eat it. One bite and then it's suddenly hidden beneath the romaine.
Once you return from tucking in Gus, I hope you'll tuck me in. So to speak. Tell L&M I got too much son.
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