Phillip Update

For all of you who remember Phillip, my father's pet plastic bag, I'd like to inform you all that he is alive and well, happily neurotic in his hatbox of a home. For those of you who don't remember or don't know, see here and here.

I was inspired to think of Phillip this evening/morning (depending which end of the bedtime you're on; my mother, sister, brother, and I were still wide awake and fully functioning when my Dad strolled down to the kitchen for breakfast at 3:20 a.m. He's nervous about making it on time to the vasikin minyan - he takes the Judgement Day very seriously,) when my father mentioned casually that the turkey sitting sadly in our kitchen sink waiting to be stuffed had been named Ratliffe. In reaction to this, the story continued, my Mother had named a local gnat. On inquiry as to the specific moniker, he responded "Nat," which he considered rather clever, and was appropriately appreciative. This resulted in a couple of minutes of "Who's on first?"-like explanation, and then he briefly considered naming two dead flies. When he couldn't come up with anything better than Dead and Deader, we let the conversation slip and he wandered off to bed. I mentioned this conversation to my Mom later, and she told me that in fact she had named the gnat "Gnat" and not "Nat," and that she was being sarcastic, not cute. We then continued with the baking.

The above paragraph more or less sums up my family life. Happy honeying to all!