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I am going to continue the pattern set by The Husband last night and name this post after a 1967 pop song.

We’ve had 4 showings in the past 5 days and in that time someone ate all my Mother’s Day chocolates.  It wasn’t me.  The Husband claims it wasn’t him, since he learned hWTF?is lesson from The Great Double-Chocolate-with-Raspberries Birthday Cake Debacle of 2004.  No other inhabitants of the house would be able to replace the cover.  Which leaves…

…the people who came to the showings.  Weirdos.  Kleptomaniac weirdos.

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