Marcus is sitting on his, well, where you sit, holding a full basket of laundry and sliding down the stairs.

One of the to-do's on his list is to take laundry downstairs, but he feels a little too unsteady to carry it down the stairs any other way.

So down he goes, one step at a time.

I can hear him, as I sit reading blogs and perusing Twitter. I hear him say MarcusLand in a just over whisper. The voice he has when he's forming an idea.

Then, "Hey Mardra-"

"Yes?"