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Things I think on a Sunday

So Kelli fixed the blog as you can see because there were pictures on Friday. Apparently we might have been hacked. Kelli called and, with a great deal of excitement and emphasis, told me the diagnosis but it was in computer speak. I tried to match her enthusiasm cause it was really important, but I didn’t understand any of it.

I promised pictures so here we go.

This was the picture that was to accompany Winifred the Wonder Mutt.  As you can see from the mangled pillows and the jacked up curtains that she is exhausted from terrorizing the couch. This is the way she always sleeps, completely committed to the process.

This is the picture I had to go with the Groundhog Day posts. Look at this face. It’s really hard to hate somebody this cute even if the little bastard did see his shadow. To be fair though, if you were a cute little groundhog, snuggled in your grassy nest, safe from the frigid February temperatures, dreaming about pretty little girl groundhogs and all of a sudden some foreign hand reaches in and yanks you out into to the freezing Pennsylvania morning you’d probably be hard pressed to come up with a nice prediction for those people either.

Kelli and our friend Vicky introduced me to my latest time waster, Plants vs Zombies. The name sounds stupid and so does the premise, but don’t all video games sound stupid in their conception? If you have a smart phone this is a really fun and funny game. It involves zombies trying to get into your house and you have to defend your yard with these nifty plants that shoot peas and other silly things. The sounds are what totally cracks me up. Braaaaaaaaaains.

Also, this weekend I was afraid I’d broken my ankle. No kidding. What was I doing that put my limbs at risk? Was I chasing down a robber? Was I out jogging in preparation for a 10k run? HA! No, I was not. I was delivering Girl Scout Cookies with Sassy and the Bandit to their Auntie. The kids jumped out of the car on the passenger side and disappeared into the house. I alit from the car and walked around the back to get the cookies. Well, that’s what I intended to do. What really happened was that I climbed out of the driver’s seat and immediately fell the inch or so off the driveway into the dirt. Yes, you read that correctly. An inch. Well an inch and A HALF. I landed hard too, a complete faceplant. By the end of Saturday I could hardly walk on it. It’s still really sore today, rotating the ankle is not on my agenda anytime soon. It’s not swollen (too badly) or bruised (too badly) and I’m not going to the emergency room. I’m telling you this just in case you thought I was a terrible mother. I might be, but not because I discriminate with hospital visits.

 Last but not least, I wanted to show you a story The Bandit wrote this weekend.

Once upon a time there was a dog and someone hurt him and that made the dog mad and then the dog bit the crap out of him. The End.

I’m very proud he spelled the word “crap” correctly.

 

Winifred the Wonder Mutt

I’ll bet you’ve been wondering about that puppy we got.  Yeah, me, too.

I think there’s something wrong with her.

I’ve never seen a dog wiggle so much in my life. Also, she’s growing at an alarming rate.  Probably because she eats everything. Possibly she’s part goat. She’s eaten cups and shoes and a hole in my jeans along with a zillion stuffed animals, a rug and a sled. Yes, a sled.

Also, she does a lot of growling. A lot. Like really a lot.

She likes to race down the hall at full speed, pass through the door into my bedroom, dart between my dresser and the foot board and dive under the bed. Remember how I told you she was growing a lot? I’m certain that within a week I’m going to have to disassemble my king-sized bed to extract her from underneath. I don’t know what’s she’s doing under there besides pestering the cat, but I guess that provides enough entertainment to warrant the risk. Besides the possibility of getting stuck, there is a very real chance the cat will kill her while she’s under there.

Actually, I thought the cat harbored nothing buy animosity towards Winnie, but the other day I found said cat sitting patiently in front of her, his head bowed and Winnie carefully cleaning his ears. I knew from then on all his veiled and not so veiled threats were hooey. Geddy the Cat secretly likes her.

It’s sorta hard not too with all that happy wiggling.

Her favorite delicacy is cat poop. YUM! Yes, cat poop. Fresh or stale it doesn’t matter. A nice slab of cat poop with a side of kitty litter. You can always tell she’s been partaking because she’ll run up to you, her face dotted with white litter particles, and pant right in your face with all the enthusiasm she can muster. And believe me, that’s a lot of enthusiasm.  It’s just the best smell ever!

She and Roscoe the Idiot Dog get along famously and it’s apparent they adore each other. He’s taught her all kinds of neat tricks. The other day, My Honey and the kids came home and found her on the kitchen table staring out the window waiting for them to come home. 

Of all the tricks he could have chosen to teach her, boy am I glad he picked that one.

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