Remember how last summer everyone was complaining about how hot it was? And I was bitching right along with everyone, likening the sultry weather to Jabba the Hut’s taint? Right. Well, now I’m going to whine about how cold it is and compare it to Darth Vader’s soul, which is nowhere near as funny as Jabba the Hut’s taint, but I can’t feel my feet right now, and we all know that feet are responsible for 98% of a person’s sense of humor. (I can barely feel my fingers too, but luckily they’re only responsible for my personal hygiene, daily food intake, work completed, and the general life activities in which I engage.)
I hope you’re holding up and haven’t lost any digits to Jack Frost. Daisy is once again using pee pads in the back hall, since she wastes so much time sniffing things outside that by the time she actually hears my voice (“Go potty, Daisy…go potty…go potty, Daisy…come on, go potty. Hurry up. Go potty.”) she’s also realized that she can no longer feel her paws and must sit down and make a pitiful “Carry me” face. So hello, pee pads. Welcome back, old semi-absorbent friends. This is not something we’re proud of—it’s a little like putting diapers back on your preschooler long after they’ve learned to use the grown-up toilet with regularity. (Except hopefully your preschooler doesn’t eat his or her own poop.)
But since she’s the kind of dog that would lie down and glue her stomach to the linoleum in protest if I were to stuff her feet into canine booties, we’re forced to retreat to the old, cold weather / lazy owner standby of the Arm & Hammer pee pad.
So anyway, where was I going with this? Oh right! My dinner at HuHot Mongolian Barbeque on Friday night. Which is memorable because before dinner, my 4th grade teacher friend Fee showed me a note one of her students had carefully placed on her desk earlier in the week.
(Penmanship decoder--it reads, "Dear Logan's Teacher, Logan is unable to read, write, or do math. Please excuse him from math, writing, and reading. Sincerely, Bob the Doctor.")
Don’t you love it?
If that doesn’t warm the cockles of your heart, I suggest stopping by the Daily Puppy, or maybe checking out this David Hasselhoff calendar.