Hey there, Hi, and Hello.
I greet you from the Land of Non-Sickness, and I can't begin to tell you what a relief that is.
Last night, before going to bed, I was convinced that I was was getting sick. Stomach sick. Bad, yucky, sick. So I was more than thrilled when I woke up this morning at the crack of 5:15 Dark-Thirty to discover that I was fine. Except, mind you, for the excessive sweating caused by the thermal blanket/ Texas seasonal night-time low temperature of 70, AND THE AWFUL PURPLE NIGHTGOWN.
I mean there's nothing worse than thinking you're coming down with some kind of wicked gastrointestinal virus, and THEN PLEASE just combine that with the fact that I discovered after my bath that I left my very favorite nightgown at the farm, and well, it's just a wonder that I have LIVED to overshare about the whole, awful sequence of events.
I'm sure you are all understandably relieved for me.
I mean, there are just some GENERAL PREMISES involved here.
First, if you feel like you are getting sick, you immediately think back over everything you've eaten in that last few hours (including the large portion of leftover El Rancho de la Reina Casserole that you ate for dinner although you weren't really hungry) and OH YES the 42 Special K Candy Bars (a homemade wonder) that seem to be missing from the container that you are ABSOLUTELY SURE were not eaten by The Chief or anyone else beside yourself.
I mean you can get really remorseful about your food choices when you think you're on the verge of something gastrointestinally unpleasant...
And secondly, I believe it is considered a universal truth that if you are, in fact, going to get sick you should be able to do so while properly outfitted in your very favorite nightgown, not some awful, purple, reject thing that you keep way at the bottom of the drawer.
And have I mentioned that I really dislike purple?
So, I guess you will find it ABSOLUTELY NO WONDER AT ALL that I was regaled all night long with a constantly looping dream about having to chaperone a NEVER-ENDING Junior High Dance.
We, I suppose, must pay for our food transgressions.
And I applaud you, REALLY, if you've even read this far, because I feel sure that right about now you might be having a few regrets of your very own... :)
I do apologize.
On a lighter note,
I don't know if I've ever mentioned here that The Weegster loves to chew. We discovered way back as a puppy that he particularly enjoyed chewing up (in this order) 1. The Chief's dress socks 2. towels and 3. sheets. Pretty much for the first year of his life we had to know where he was every second of the day because he was THE MASTER OF SOCK THIEVERY. I really can't begin to describe how expert he was. And while he would simply lay down with the sock, roll his eyes back in his head, and quickly gnaw a huge hole in the toe area, it was with the towels and sheets that he really excelled.
He's a shredder. He loves to shred his towels and sheets into long, thin, strips. He LOVES the ripping sound.
Please don't think that he still does this on a regular basis. We took all the necessary measures to keep these items away from him when he was in the THROES of this ripping obsession. And frankly, it just got to be a pain because, well, if he shreds a sheet, he also EATS the sheet... He could eat an entire queen-sized shredded sheet in one sitting. But since, of course, we know there are some real health issues involved here, along with, may I add just some really bad gastrointestinal side effects (I am so sorry, I promise I will not mention this word again) we were always careful about the whole thing.
But, at the farm this weekend, as a special treat, The Chief gave Weegie a pair of his old jeans.
And The Weege was nothing if not delighted.
He seems to have learned from his past mistakes though, because now, as he chews, he simply spits out little chunks of the fabric into a neat pile.
And I really don't know what else to say.
Except, maybe, that I hope this post made you feel ever so much better about yourself and just your life in general.
Please feel free to forget you ever knew me.
Lu






1 comment:
Oh my gosh. You are in my head when it comes to the dog... and that you should be allowed to be sick (or every day stay at home mom) in your favorite pjs. Love this post! LOL!
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