Actually, I think I know what the writing problem is. I am in a slump, because I haven't read much fiction lately. That is, I swallowed Ender's Game all in one huge gulp last Thursday on the way back from NJ. But other than that, nothing. How bizarre. And it's Tuesday already! I think I need to dive into Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix tonight and not worry about writing again until Saturday.

Whoa. My 18-year-old brother, Franklin, just announced: "I'm not a tomato! I'm an apple!" This exclamation quite logically followed from the previous conversation, which proceeded thusly:

Me: "Sheesh! It feels like yesterday I turned 21, but it's only two months and eight days until I turn 22! Before I know it I'll be 30 and wrinkly!"
Dad: "Now let's not get melodramatic."
Me: *sighs* "OK, so that's almost half again my age. But still!"
Dad: "Maybe you'll have a few crow's feet. It depends on how much time you spend in the sun. At least you probably won't have loose skin under your chin like I do."
Me: "Your chin is fine. At least you're not pasty white and flubbery like some guys, who eat only junk food. You know, you can sort of tell the things a person likes to eat by looking at the consistency of their flesh. All the cells in a person's body redo themselves every year, and they're made from what you eat."
Frank (interjecting from across the room): "So I'm going to be round and red, am I?" (He eats a lot of Red Delicious apples.)
Dad: "There's a big difference between turning into your food and being made from it."
Me: *laughs suddenly and loudly*
Dad gives me a strange look and says nothing.
Me: "You know, growing up in this family has twisted my mind."
Dad: "'Twisted?' Isn't that a little harsh?"
Me: "Well, what do you call it when your brother talks about turning into an apple and your mind immediately jumps to the scene in Attack of the Killer Tomatoes where the black secret agent dude is sitting in an orange round fabric suit in the middle of the other tomatoes? That's pretty twisted, isn't it?"
Dad again says nothing.
Frank: "I'm not a tomato! I'm an apple!"

So you see, it is perfectly logical.  ¶ 12:24 PM