April Fools has come and gone. It should have been my time to howl, but I got nuttin. I should petition the April Fools Commission to extend the tomfoolery for another week or two, but I won’t because I have had a sudden flare-up of my chronic lazyitis. I will simply vent my spleen on my tax return and leave Uncle Sam to pick up the pieces. It is a well-known fact that the spleen is the funniest internal organ.

OK, what else? My in-laws are in town and have been plying me with nice wines. Also, my gym boyfriend told me Wednesday that he is having an operation and wants me to visit him at home during his long recovery. He submitted an agenda for this encounter that did not include my suggestion of Parcheesi. It took all day for it to occur to me that there was something untoward about this proposition. Let’s blame it on the wine.