As is inevitable on the third day of a con, I feel like I've been dragged sideways over a griddle, but I live! HeroesCon was reasonably profitable, in the "Not drop-dead amazing, but definitely worth working the weekend" sorta sense. Sales were down a bit from last year, but not terrible. Generally good con, though. Some nice superhero costumes. (There was one very good Captain America costume with pants tight enough to inflame the patriotism of most women over the age of twelve. At one point, his girlfriend was looking through my prints and reached the adult section, at the same time that a young girl was at the table. He struck a heroic pose and flung his shield between child and possible porn. Naturally, the only thing I could possibly say was an enthusiastic "Thank you, Captain America!" and then start giggling uncontrollably.)
The NC Webcomic Coffee-Clatch gang was there, and I spent a lot of time at the bar with them drawing (Of course, I had tea. Well, okay, and sangria. But mostly tea!) A great bunch. Much geeking was had. (You all read Feral Chicken and Likely Stories, right? Of course you do....)
My buddy Linda accompanied me out, since Carlota had a family emergency at the last minute. Linda comes with a ten-month-old named Violet. Now, I fear babies dreadfully, but Linda is one of those good people who does not try to make their skittish friends hold the baby, amuse the baby, or anything like that. (The closest being "The baby's asleep, can you watch her for ten minutes while I take a shower?" and other such, which I am happy to do. As long as I don't have to do anything responsible involving infants, I am reasonably willing to degrade myself making faces to amuse them while Mom hits the breakfast buffet. (Which reminds me, why does even a good hotel breakfast buffet inevitably have lousy bacon?))
Granted that I have a very small sample size to judge from, Violet seemed very well behaved for an infant. No screaming fits, and her crying jags passed off within seconds. It probably helped that the few times she got extremely upset at dinner (somebody pulled a fire alarm one time, which was understandably upsetting, and the other time another baby was screaming its head off and being ignored by the parents) Linda would ask me to box up her food and bring it up to the hotel room, then take Violet off. This was admirably responsible behavior, and I publicly salute it.
Me, I'd still much rather have a dog, but it wasn't painful spending the weekend with her.
Speaking of pets, Ben was doing fine when I got back, and many many thanks to the people who suggested adding water to wet food. I tried it, and James was doing it this weekend, and it's working wonderfully--I can turn half a can of wet food into a bowl of soup, and he'll lick up every last drop. So he's much better hydrated now, and passing a lot more through, which is all to the good. We'll lick this thing yet!
And now, to collapse and sleep like the drunken dead.