From the Chloe files I have things to tell you, Internets. Really, I do. It's just that every time I boot up the computer, I go do other things whilst it slowly gets ready and then I get distracted and never get back to it. For example, yesterday I messed around the house in the morning. (And by messed around, I mean I mostly watched the DVR.) And then I roasted a turkey breast. David happened to come home from work for a little break right after I took it out of the oven, so I left him to slice it up while I got ready for work. (It was a good day. I even put on makeup.) I was on my way back down the stairs when I looked over into the kitchen (it's all open) and saw Chloe standing on the counter. Eating the turkey. "Chloe!" She turned and looked at me, licked her chops and backed off. "Where is your father?!" She didn't answer me, of course. She never does. David came out of the office. "What was she doing?" "Eating the turkey! Now I have to throw out all those pieces! Where were you?" "I was signing on to the computer because someone just turns it on and leaves it on the signup screen." "I don't know who that could be. Ask Chloe." That whole not talking thing works out for me sometimes.