(It might help if you envision me as Bob Newhart at this point.)
But I'm NOT home.
It's Route 9. I can always make good time there... (/sarcasm)
4-1-1. It's what 555-1212 used to be.
Oh, hell. I'm a-s-a-p-ing it home, okay? Love you. Bye!
Half day at school today, see, and our best-laid plans to have Noodle spend the afternoon at her old nursery school and give me a hair of the ever-elusive Free Time were scotched when she wound up on the usual bus that takes her home instead of (as we requested) the bus that goes to her nursery school.
Worked out just fine in the end, though. Mrs. H down the street covered for us, and with her two daughters combined with my daughter there was a grand convergence of little-girl squealery from which it was difficult to extricate Noodle. Turns out both our homes are pretty much identical - and so if one of us gets the notion to upgrade the other finds themselves with plenty of spare parts!
I was looking forward to that nap, though.