Colburns you fiend! How did you manage to translate all that soft chattering and clicking I hear late at night?? In fact now instead of throwing away the used newpaper they relieve themselves on, I can give them to you to desipher, for I am almost positive they are the blueprints to my destruction. On that same token, I found my cd player in peices on the floor last night. It seems one of my little angels (whose name rythmes with 'bapoleon') deliberately broke the only thing that keeps me sane when I scoop poop and clean dog kennels all day long at work. If followed closely, I'm sure you will find this is the thread that will ultimately lead to my unraveling. Goodspeed, Colburns. Godspeed. [Posted in FML issue 5088]