After a long trip home, complicated by 1) a terrible sunburn (I greased Ray up but not myself), 2) a cold, 3) PMS, and 4) a sleepless night, but relieved by a) a terriffic husband and b) a good kid, I discovered that i) the house had not burned down, ii) the cat had not died, although he had pooped on the bathroom rug, and iii) the a/c worked.
Ray goes to school in the morning. Mondays, school doesn't start until 9:40. Why this is, I do not know. It often seems that choices made by the school are tests, to determine whether you are actually determined to be a good parent, or just pretending, because being a good parent is all about jumping through multiple hoops with the enthusiasm of a Yorkie.