This is a text message I got last night from my little sister:
I just caught [redacted] trying to get Quincy to hold a drink umbrella while wearing a shawl. He was playing Island of Dr. Moreau with Quincy and Preston. Logically, Quincy was the doctor and Preston was the beast. Just so you know. Also, I think I smell like dishwater.
I'm not sure I could have asked for a better sister. I don't think I could have hand-picked a more charming, loving, funny husband for her. I am glad to know them, and a better, more joyful person for it.
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