Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

A wrote a little over the weekend and edited a little more. I know that editing is for December, but there were some things that needed to be fixed for the sake of continuity that held up my progress/word count.
I was not at work on Friday because I got to attend an event at Gwynyth's school. We brought her lunch, because that was what the cool kids were doing, and arrived about twenty minutes before her lunch period.
Jack-in-the-Box should never, ever, be eaten cold. It could also be said more directly that Jack-in-the-Box should never be eaten, but there is a little something I like to call the Ultimate Breakfast Sandwich which skews everything in favor of about a billion grams of trans fat wedged into a grease-soaked croissant. That is truth in advertising.
I imagine that for a heart patient, that food item could very well be the "ultimate" breakfast sandwich.
It could also cause enough nausea that one would never desire a breakfast sandwich again, which is what happened to me about six years ago.
Sausage, bacon, ham, processed American cheese and scrambled eggs between two pieces of bread so soaked with oil they turned gelatinous and almost transparent forever scared me away from any breakfast fast food offering.
But anyway.
We checked Gwynyth out of school early (since that was another thing the cool kids were doing) and went to look at a house. The looming threat of rezoning into a crappy school has us considering an emergency move within the greater Houston area even though we had promised ourselves we would need to leave the state before we'd pack up our stuff and move it again.
The house we went to see was beautiful, but had sat empty for too long, by my math almost three years minimum, and had started to decay in neighbor vexing ways.
The wood around the roof had rotted leaving gaping holes which were probably crammed full of bats, the front door glass had broken and been Krazy Glued back together and there was a football-sized chunk of concrete in the side yard from where the foundation had cracked in a nasty way.
Also, I doubt it was haunted in any kind of cool way.
If I'm going to upsize our mortgage, I want a ghost. The coolness factor alone would be worth it, plus I could sell our story to the Sci-fi Network or the Discovery Channel every October.
And a pool would be nice. Maybe a haunted pool.