My Days are Numbered

Thank you to Li'l Viv for taking over the blogging so I could go do grown-up, responsible stuff, like scrounge up a paycheck. Entrepreneurship forces a person to
educate herself on subjects such as "market inefficiences" and "weasel clauses."
Fortunately, we have mentors for that.

My children, in fact, have inherited he who must be obeyed's work ethic and logistical genius. Said children are, in fact, "in negotiations" to develop the natural area behind our home into an additional single-family housing development.
They recently brought me their surveyor's map and blueprints. Each building lot had been plotted, assessed, and categorized according to "land will or will not perk."

I warily browsed through the map and blueprints, trying to decide if I should encourage their aspirations, or let them know that particular acreage is designated as a natural gas pipeline easement. In the end he who said, "Don't crush a child's dreams. Let them carry on."

The children removed map and schematics from my hands, however, when I admitted ignorance over the whole "land perking" thing. They sighed and took the paperwork into their father's study for review and further strategizing.

This morning, on my way downstairs for coffee, I heard the two velociraptors conspiring in the bonus room. This snippet of their conversation was overheard:

"Mom doesn't understand septic vs city water."

"I know, but don't harsh on Mom. The land that doesn't perk, we can sell to her."

"I guess, but we'll still get stuck with it when she kicks."

"Only if she is predeceased by dad."

Have I mentioned that both children are under the age of 13? Moreover, I have no Balenciagas, no cable tv, and no plasma flatscreen, because I pay through the nose to give these kids a Paideia education at a devoutly Christian school. (Yes, some jokes write themselves.)

It's time for another cup of coffee. Anybody out there volunteer to taste it first?