Once there was a pancake breakfast at Laura Ingalls Wilder's church, and Laura offered to do the dishes, because clearly she was an idiot, and also because she was friends with Ida Brown, who was the reverend's daughter. She and Ida kept washing dishes and washing dishes and washing dishes, and every time they turned around, more dishes were being brought in.
It is kind of like that with me and the amount of proofreading I got going right now. One of the people who just gave me a ton of last-minute work said, "I hate me so you don't have to!" I don't really mind, though. Sure, I've broken out in a panicky rash all over, but I'll get it done, and I need the cash.
In the meantime, won't you enjoy a photo of Tallulah in her jaunty Valentine's scarf that Marvin got her?
He keeps buying her things and yet she keeps liking me better. Just this morning I said, "Don't you love it when you wake up and Tallulah's head is on you?" And Marvin said, "I wouldn't know."
He has never woken up with Lu's head on him! Ever! I just figured the mornings her head wasn't on ME it was on HIM. But no.
Isn't it funny how pets choose their people? And it can't really be because she remembers I snatched her off the street, can it? They can't really be that logical. She could not possibly recall two years ago when I made that U-turn and swooped her puppy self up like I was Nicholas Cage and she was the Huggies.
Okay, Ida Brown is calling from the sink.