Puppy Pile

If, like me, you are a frequent visitor to Cute Overload, you too know that talking porcupines and a magical sanctuary for baby sloths in onesies DO exist. Yesterday a new video was posted that nearly killed me dead. Or in cutespeak, DED.

Can you even believe this? There's obviously some sort of science at work, but who even cares. Puppies! Rotating like a pinwheel!

I'm convinced that there's a huge, unfilled demand for a business we could call Puppy Pile, in which you lie down on the floor and someone lets about ten puppies in at the other end of the room. They all scamper over to you and adorable hilarity ensues. It's like a trip to the spa, only you leave with hives on your face, tangled hair, and a heart brimming with love.

 I'd totally pay for an hour of that.

I don't know why, but I've been highly emotional lately. If it's not a cute puppy video making me tear up, it's simply seeing an extremely elderly woman at the grocery store. Just some random 90+ year-old lovely woman, earnestly shuffling along with her cart in her sensible boots and polyester slacks, with a head of hopeful, white curls and there I am, fighting the strong urge to introduce myself to her and ask if she'd like to be my adopted local grandma, if she needs anyone to drive her to her next doctor or hair appointments, if she'd please tell me stories about growing up without television or a car and what a treat it was to get an orange in her stocking at Christmas.

So clearly, the solution to all of this angst was to drink a tumbler of wine and watch The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, have a good, ugly cry, and wake up with a weird, swollen taste bud on the tip of my tongue and a cold sore on my upper lip, a video of which will be coming soon to Ugly Overload.  

Oh, great. I think I just got Abreva in my eye. Gotta run.