That sounds SO L.A.
I figure it’s better if I just tell you what’s going on.
Shaun and I are both at the age where our parents have become elderly without our permission.
I keep telling my mom she’s only 45, which, while it would put her younger than me, is how she is stuck in my I’m-Her-Kid memory. My mom says, “I wish”. Both sets of parents have been relatively healthy until this summer. Shaun’s parents went through separate medical crises and ended up in separate hospitals on the east coast. They are both doing better at the moment. Shaun had only been home a week when my dad started to fail. He’s now out of intensive care, and in a rehab facility, but there is some question as to if he will make it out of there. Fortunately, my parents only live a couple hours away from us.
So we are driving a lot. Our newer car decided this was completely unacceptable, stomped it’s tires, and quit. Our older car rolled it’s headlights and said “I told you I was your favorite.”
We have family staying with us (this is a blessing).
All of this excitement has whacked out the dog’s internal time organization. He wants to sleep all day and chew all night. Which would be acceptable if it involved his prolific collection of pristine chew toys. (It doesn’t.) I pulled a mangled moose out of his mouth at 2 am. I believe his thinking goes like this: I killed it, therefore I should eat it’s guts. EW….nasty white stringy stuff…ew ew ew. Must masticate thoroughly, then barf all night.
See previous post about me following barfing dog all night with a roll of paper towels. Yes. We do put the stuffed animals out of reach. Well, out of human reach. Our nine inch tall dog has mysterious super powers that enable him to reach the top bunk bed.
Sorry, on a tangent here.
Clearly this is not the most important thing going on in our lives; but it’s one of the more humorous diversions. Or would be if it weren’t for the sleep deprivation. I believe the following report should sum up my functioning level nicely. Daisy’s new iPhone arrived yesterday. I knew this yesterday at 2 pm. By 5 pm, I had no idea. I sent her a random Pong text:
Jane: nothing happening. hi. no need to respond.
Daisy: are you kidding? playing with new iphone. keep txting.
Jane: holy cow, it’s here? Yahoo!
Daisy: um. yeah. super COOL.
Long pause while I remember I had this information 3 hours ago. Oh wait. Does this mean she has a new phone number? Longer pause while my brain tries to work through this complicated equation. *smack forehead*
Jane: This is why you’re a VP and I vacuum: I almost just texted you to ask you if this means you have a new phone number.
That’s what’s up in our neck of the woods. I’m afraid the only horses I’ve seen are those I’ve driven by at 60 mph. The brainless example above should fill you in on my hesitancy to post anything at all. If I do, I will be desperately trying to find the funny around me (maybe too desperately) and likely sound like a total whack.
Humor is good for survival and denial: two of my favorite tools in the Coping Box.