Nothing can make you hit sad racoon status quicker than a quintet of four year-olds chanting "You're FAT! You're Fat! You're FAT!" with fingers a-pointing and mouths full of laughter. I know they are only four, but man, my heart is full of hurt. Maybe if I am lucky, a house will fall on me. I have the stripey socks for it...and sadly, the warm, purring kitty chirping on my lap is not helping all that much. A little, maybe but not that much. Here's to vacating that raccoon...soon!