It's gotten to the point where, if I should use my index finger to reposition the giant Clorox bleach tablet in the toilet to its recommended spot in the corner of the tank, I not only immediately wash my hands, I also wonder if there isn't perhaps the possibility I should make a trip to Beth Israel. It is bleach, after all, and the package not only asks the consumer not to touch it, it exclaims it, in enormous bold capitals: DO NOT TOUCH! Besides, there are things they can do in the emergency room that I can't. Lotions, for instance. They have way more lotions.

Thus far I have experienced a nominal degree of discomfort as a result of my brief contact with the tablet, though my skin does seem considerably drier than usual.

Tonight we had my folks over for dinner to show them all we've done with the place. Raegan made a remarkable sugar-free, low-salt meal of cornbread and chili. Dad seems to be doing better, though he's moving a little slower than usual. Also, he's very worried about sneezing. Apparently, every time he sneezes it feels like he just had another bypass.