Then we got a call requesting that Eric come and help at my dad's office. They needed a computer guy STAT. So, he showed up and fixed the problem, and then some, in a matter of minutes. He didn't pat himself on the back, but I think he couldn't have been judged had he done so.
Maybe it was the heady rush of solving the computer problem or maybe he'd just gone cray-zay, but we came home and he fixed that electrical problem in the car. Man alive he was riding high after that, feeling like Mr. Fix It. Well, deserved I thought.
Then as Cordelia was eating dinner she was laughing at his comedic stylings like he was the most HILARIOUS person to ever live, further inflating his ego. I would also like to mention that Eric's comedy routine included his own Wyoming version of the robot moonwalk.
Finally, at dusk Eric took Miss Bumblebee out so she could (ahem) poop. Cordelia and I were at the window looking out (to wave at Eric, not to watch the show). Across the street a car full of teenage girls pulled up to the stop and one girl screamed, and I mean screamed not yelled, at the top of her lungs, "Hey you with the dog, you're fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!"