Same Old Story

I’m not doing so well with this whole Sunday Stories thing, am I? I often have a good excuse. Like today, the little housewarming party we were supposed to attend turned out to be more like a local festival, with a tent, rented tables and chairs, and enough food to feed half the state. There was even entertainment of a sort—children crying over lost balloons, neighbors sharing the tragic details of their lives, that sort of thing. And though I enjoyed the food and the company, I would have been happier if the occasion hadn’t totally exhausted my Sunday afternoon. We didn’t get home until dinnertime. So you see, I have an excuse for not writing. Too bad it doesn’t make me feel any better.