Sunday, October 30, 2011


"If you're not feeling well," I said with a glance at his ankle, "you really don't have to join us for dinner. I can handle the group."

"Katie," he replied with utter sincerity, "I have a 3 year old and a 3 month old and permission from my wife to go out tonight. If I end up in a wheelchair, I will be there for dinner."


"He looks like a vampire," a colleague said about a new hire as we were in neighboring bathroom stalls. "Dark hair, pale skin, very tall." I took a moment to feel grateful that I wasn't very tall - with my dark hair and pale skin, perhaps I would be a candidate for the undead as well.

"Oh!" I said, perking up. "And he studies blood flow!" Delighted with my joke, I giggled and paused when nobody joined me.

"Vampires like blood?" I explained, profoundly disappointed in my bathroom buddies. "Come on! That's funny!"


Beavis and Butthead is back on MTV. While modestly embarrassed about my joy in a returning high school pleasure, I did catch a re-run last night.

And laughed so hard it hurt. I could listen to their commentary on Jersey Shore for hours. Bless you, Mike Judge.


My parents help at Little and Smallest Ones' school (which I find terribly sweet) but Dad is not a fan of rained-out recess.

"I always get stuck with the bad class," he told me when we last spoke on the phone. "The girls are nice, but the boys just go wild. And I'm not allowed to yell at them so I just keep repeating that they should settle down."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," I said absently as I was driving home from work.

"Oh, it's fine," he replied. "I told the teacher they were mean to me." And he sounded so much like Smallest One as he laughed.


Have you seen the commercials for Milo's Kitchen? Where the woman is proud of her dog? (That's not the funny part - wait for it.) Chienne loves the chicken jerky. As soon as the bag crinkles as I open the seal in the pantry, she trots over, tail wagging and waits for our routine.

I ask if she likes chicken jerky and she barks.

I bark back.

We repeat that until she begins to howl and after I join in, I place the treat in her mouth and she trots away while I giggle.


I talk to myself - and/or my dog and cat - quite a bit. So on our walk the other day, I paused at a corner and said, "Go ahead, Mr. Truck."

I blushed when I realized his window was open despite the cold weather and he grinned at me before saying, "Thanks, Miss Pedestrian."

"You're welcome," I murmured as he waved and pulled away. "But it's Dr. Pedestrian."


Oh! For the lovely ladies who offered to befriend me on my post recently, I love you times infinity! I would so install you in my guest room and come find you when I thought of something funny to share and then be profoundly disappointed if you didn't laugh.

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