... which is usually half over at that point.
But no, we've only touched the tip of the iceberg here.
Where were we? Oh, yes. Because I haven't had enough going on in my life with getting my actor guy dressed an onstage every night (and believe me he had to change clothes every two minutes!) and with my pneumonia (that's what I've decided it is since it's been lingering for FOUR STINKIN' WEEKS!) and with getting Rick situated (and listening to him continue to get his days and weeks and, especially, his holidays! confused) I've got this on my plate, too. My new family.
For 57 years (give or take) I've wanted to know all of this information. For 57 years (give or take) I'd known that I would NEVER know this information. And suddenly, here it is. In my lap. And I'm afraid of it. I'm afraid that if I stand up, it'll all spill off onto the floor. And I'm afraid that if I just sit still, it'll quietly all seep onto the floor anyway. But first it'll run down my legs and ruin my shoes.
I LIKE MY SHOES!
So ... what, Kris? You don't want to know? No, no. I do. (Excuse me while I work this out in my head.) But what am I getting myself into?
Well, here's the next step. DNA test. Yep. I've agreed to have a DNA test done. And who knows? Maybe we'll get the OJ Simpson trial settled once and for all!
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