No one was hurt. Nothing was stolen. The rock somehow missed the glass table below the window and didn't crack our beautiful stone floors, so the only thing different from yesterday is the broken window (and the large rock in the lobby). My dad, of course, being somewhat ducklike, let it roll off his back. He whistled as he measured the window for a new plywood cover.
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I LOVE YOUR DAD.
Remember how we used to walk around your house with our backs to the walls, in fear of him?
Ohhh do I remember. He always was (and still is!) a tickler/pincher. His poor future grandchildren..
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