You There - Laugh At My Joke and Then Get Me a Cup Of Coffee.

So, as I alluded to a couple of days ago, the family and I are going on vacation next week. This was not by choice. Rather, two men in dark suits arrived at our doors, mentioned the ages of our children, noted how much vacation time my wife and I currently had built up (how they knew that I have no idea), and explained that we had nearly exceeded the time allowed until we were due for a family vacation. They handed us a package on Walt Disney World, issued a stern warning about not wanting to have to come back, and left. Through the tinted windows of the car they drove in, I'm pretty sure I could make out someone smoking a cigar in the back seat - someone with two perfectly circular ears sticking out from the top of their head. It was...bizarre.

It was an undeniable fact, however, that with the Princess nearing seven years of age, our family has never managed to go on so much as weekend trip. We have done a couple of day excursions, but that's been it. This isn't because we didn't want to, but rather a side effect of our general schedule. We're lucky to pull off an overnight visit to grandma's house.

Anyway, we saved up and we're going. What's funny is that, when I mention this to people, I feel like I need to explain. What with the economy being what it is, it feels wrong somehow to be going off on a big vacation. The fact that we're in Michigan just makes it worse. Whenever it comes up, I'm always afraid it's going to be followed by someone telling me they just lost their job and their house and their car and they're piling up medical bills and their dog ran away to go live with some family doing better. It hasn't happened yet, but in these times, every conversation has the potential to end as a county song. It's best to be prepared.

So there you have it. Next week, you'll all have to get your fix of general silliness somewhere else. Sorry, but that's what happens when your entire editorial staff consists of one guy waiting for code to build. Maybe I should get an intern. "You - I'll be out next week. Write something funny each day. Mock a celebrity if you can." That would be cool.

Of course I'd have to explain who the new kid sitting at my desk was, but I think I've reached a degree of awesome that justifies an entourage, don't you?