Night, in all fairness. And I refuse to say it had anything to do with the date.

So Dud calls Mar�a at work and I answer, for chances are, she wanted to relay a message to me. And I was right. 'Apa got hurt, she said, matter-of-factly, and I needed to leave work so I could go see what it was that was wrong with him. After a minor discussion (in which she accused me of being a greedy workaholic who cares more about work than family, among other things) I told her to come pick me up. I left UPS around 23:30 HRS, an exceedingly early departure on my part. But I hastily explained the situation to John and left, feeling uneasy and very worried over my old viejo.

We don't even pause by the house for anything; we drive straight on to 'Ama's work to go pick her ass up. All this time, might I add, Mu�eca the ever-trembling chihuahua was in the front passenger seat, waiting for an unsuspecting lap to pounce upon and cuddle in, leaving the owner smelling of wet bitch. Anywho.

Dud explains on the way that Pifas called her. He had tripped on something and hurt himself pretty badly: it was nearly an hour after the incident and he was still in great pain. Toty was afraid he had broken something. Oh boy.

I ride along with Dud while she speeds off to Pifas's residence. We find him prostrated upon his bed, writhing this way and that on the mattress, wincing and whimpering. Kinda pathetic, really, and even more worrisome. (Did I even spell that correctly, I wonder?)

*moment while I doze off on the computer chair*

As is natural, Dud and 'Apa get into it, wounds not yet healed from previous arguments coming into play. In the end, we bring Dad's ass back with us. He's asleep next door in 'Ama's room now. Mom said she'd sleep in the Blue Room with the Dud and Angel.

*yawn*