Wendy's parents are here, and they are apparently just as nuts as my folks -- they drove out from Montana to paint her half of the house, and work in the garden and do whatever else comes up. They also brought Wendy's youngest brother to pitch in on the work. Go Despains!

My parents will be arriving on Saturday, to paint and clean and install light fixtures and so on. They'll miss the Despains by a day.

Will I go straight to hell if I admit that I'm contemplating the odds of sucessfully starting a little parental rivalry? "Thanks for painting the kitchen, guys. Of course, Wendy's parents painted her kitchen and built her a bookcase and bought her a pony. Just so you know."

Yeah, that'll pretty much send me straight to hell.