So the bike’s sitting in the garage with a flat. The front yard’s torn up from the plumber’s backhoe. And Lissa’s lying in the bedroom with a face full of stitches from dental surgery.

But the toilet now flushes, and I just heard Lissa in the kitchen, rooting around for something to eat. I just need to pick up some tubes and a new back tire and I’ll be set. Mmmm. Kevlar.