The only-begotten son has an essay on biological warfare due for the next morning, but the printer is acting up. We fiddle with things and as such things tend to go, we have to install new software and then I feel the need to dispense some professional advice on the formatting of literature references and of course we have to look up some interesting pathogens in the Tree of Life and… What's that smell of burning? Aaacckk! The pie! It is well on its way to briquettehood when I pull it out of the oven.
Fortunately there are enough leftovers from Easter for us to be able to improvise dinner anyway.
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