The maintenance man, who (or whom?) I love, is turning the squirrels into dogs: when you walk outside they run at you as if they are begging for scraps at the table. One ran up my leg a couple of months ago. This just doesn't seem safe. I suggest you buy a bb gun, Warren, and train them not to run at me--that every hand is not going to feed them.
Also, Daniel is using the bringing up of the gifts as an outlet for his suppressed matchmaking urges. Today, while holding my hand, in front of the priest: "How appropriate that this is in front of the priest! Emily, this is Chris. I'd like you to bring up the gifts together next week." Me: "Hi Chris!; I don't really want to bring up the gifts, Daniel." I got out of it, but it took some arguing and ignoring the great guilt that I was feeling--I had sort of decided that I wouldn't refuse to bring up the gifts, because that just isn't that generous, and the last time I refused, I suffered remorse and went back and gave in. Plus, I do sort of like curtsying. But I do think that Daniel asks people he knows a disproportionate amount.
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