Will Today Be The Day Of His Coming?

He has undoubtedly promised to come.

Sometme. Somewhere. When least expected.

My wife believes he may come today. All weekend long she has poured over the literature reading religiously about the magnificent things involved in the promise of his coming.

Horns will blow. Champaign corks will pop. Beautiful girls will bring armloads of flowers. Crowds will cheer. Released balloons will soar colorfully upward into the Heavens. He will usher us into a limousine and escort us to the mansion he has prepared for us.

Our poor sullen neighbors -- for whom he has not come -- will gather in envy at our door; but they’ll congratulate us anyhow.

Ginny believes this very day may be the day.

But then, she’s gotten all worked up over this anticipated event before only to be disappointed when he didn’t show.

But her hope springs eternal.

Who knows? David Sayers and the Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol may indeed come today.

Hey, I spend all Sunday sacked out on the sofa watching tv football, how can I blog about that?