OK, the superintendents just left after providing an hour of “couldn't we do it this way?” Most of which I squashed with 1) a bit of flexibility 2) saying that come December, I'll direct the thing and 3) saying “no.” They like how we're going to change the puppet theater into a ship, and then turn the ship into a sand dune. Good times. All I want to do now is drop dead of exhaustion — between cooking, birthday-partying, cleaning up from said party, putting dinner together, and justifying my words, I'm effing done. Done, I tell you! And in two minutes, the Boy is going to awaken from his nap. Zowie.