i had just escaped work, on my way to Willy Wonka. i had made plans for the wonkafest before skipping downtown to see the delectable Mike Doughty. sister #4 ruined all that.

“dad’s in the hospital,” she said.
“what?” i asked.
“mom called, dad’s in the hospital.”
“is he ok?”
“i think so,” she said. “mom said he was being a baby, so i guess he’s not on his deathbed.”
“nice.”
“we can go see him at 7.”
“i’ll be there as soon as Willy Wonka is over.”

when i arrived, sisters #3 and 4, mom, aunt cappy, and tony were there. oh, and dad, looking small in his hospital bed.

“what’cha in for,” i said as soon as i walked into the room.
“i’ve been sick,” he said.
“you’re blunt,” sister #3 said.
“yeah, well. . . ” i said.

it appear dad has been sick for like three days, puking sick. bad, yes, but extra bad when you’re a diabetic. his blood sugar’s super high, he’s dehydrated, and they’re keeping him in for a few days to get things figured out.

and, in other news “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” fucking RULES!