It is 10:58 p.m. here in Exile. And in the name of all that’s holy, P2 is STILL. AWAKE. Until I heard the latest excuse, I was ready to remedy that by Googling “hospital supplies online” and “restraints.” Now, though, I’m just proud I didn’t laugh out loud. (You try):
“Mama? I just wanted to tell you that the reason I’m still up is, well, it’s your fault. You told me that this weekend we’re going to Ohio to visit, and now? It is OCCUPYING my head. Not ME. Just my HEAD. But all that occupying makes it really hard to sleep. The occupying in my head, I mean. I can’t fight it.”
Let me get this straight: P2’s head = France, circa 1943. Upcoming birthday party = Nazis. Sheesh. Where’s Emmanuel d’Astier de la Vigerie when I really need him…?
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