Hello again from your intrepid reporter. It's shaping up to be an odd holiday season. As I mentioned before, our first-grader is up to some fairly strange hijinks. For a start, he's seeing far too much of his classmate Deanna Sobinski. Sure, his diction is a lot better but it's not much consolation seeing him talk back to John like that. Some father. Either he growls at him to go to bed or he stands there like a deflated balloon taking abuse. That's as odd as how precocious Lizzie is; she too is talking at a level I wouldn't expect from a child that tiny. I just wish she made sense. I mean, what does "Get away from me, my name is Meredith" mean besides her not even knowing her own name. Ah, well. Kids, right? If it's not that puppy, it's the two-legged variety of nuisance that gets you.
Anyway, the good news is that Phil is coming to visit. I still don't know what John means by his coming to snap me out of it but it'll be good to see him again. Maybe I can fix him up with Connie so he can finally settle down. He can't be a swinging single forever, you know. Even if he doesn't bite, we can always dream.
Speaking of dreams, I had the strangest one the other day. My reflection told me that she and John, who she insisted on calling 'Anthony', were moving back to Vancouver because he got a new job. Why he'd trade in his dentist's smock for banker stripes is beyond me but you know how little dreams have to do with reality.
In any event, I have to cut this short. The Sobinski girl's mother just arrived to butt in and offer more of her pointless advice. Till next month...