Yes, Fiorella is running late. It's a typical day-before-day-before Christmas hullabaloo. The second that Fio discovered her modem needed rebooting, elder son's dog greeted him a little too joyously and tumble persued, with Son ending up on the concrete floor, face first. His wife has spirited him off to the St. David's ER, which must have volumes of records on Fio's tribe by now.
Oh, and did Fio mention that one of the upstairs toilets decided to run and run and run? And that she accidentally knocked into one of her swags and a favorite oranament crashed to the concrete? And that judging by the number of Kleenxes she's used already this morning, she has a horrible cold?
On this (achoo, HONK) joyful note, Fiorella is signing off for the day.
PS: Pray that Son didn't break his nose.
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