A week of nothing

After weeks of reading, riting, and r'statistics, it is a clown-shoe-upside-the-head shock to be home without anything due. I can't remember the last time I had one week off, let alone two. I haven't slept this well since the Ford administration.
Not that I'm eating bon-bons on the hammock every afternoon. My Very Pregnant Wife and I just got back from Hershey, PA for an overnight splurgathon at the gorgeous hotel and Spa -- she got a pre-natal massage and a pedicure, I got a cocoa-oil massage and a dip in a chocolate-laced hydrotherapy jacuzzi built for one. It occurred to me, sitting there as the world's biggest mocha latte, foam tickling my ears, that we really are very lucky to be able to experience the finer things in life once in a while.
We also visited Chocolate World to ride a rollercoaster car through a faux factory (they don't allow tours through the real one anymore) to see the various stages of goo the chocolate goes through, got a free sample, and paid for others. It's a pretty cool town, with its Hershey's Kiss lamp post covers and Twizzler garden rails and chocolate chip payphone numbers and Recees Peanut Butter Cup Manhole Covers and white chocolate toilets and hummingbirds made out of bubble gum.
Back home, it's been interesting trying to remember where stuff is and learn what's changed. Tried to open a bottle of beer, but in that drawer now is bibs and sippy cups. And you should see the nursery. Really. How's next week for you?
As a bonus, I'll let you watch Tucker drink water from the bowl by sticking his paw halfway down the water and then licking his foot.