This morning I heard my Dad talking all sweet to Abbs when he didn’t know I was listening. It was ADORABLE. He cooed, “Did you sleep well? Did you dream about other puppies?” Of course I talk to Abbs all the time too. I’m certain she often longs for me to shut my pie hole.
My Dad denies being under Abby’s spell but let’s face it – we’re all slaves to her Royal Fluffiness. In fact, since he arrived, Abby stopped eating her kibble. And why would she when she gets a constant stream of delicious morsels from him? He’s since had to nix the people-food overload and Abby’s reluctantly returned to the dregs of her kib. Poor dear.
I think my piece-of-shit camera has officially bitten the dust. Last night I couldn’t get it to upload photos, despite my fervent protests. It’s time for me to invest in a better one. I would love one of these babies but can’t justify spending so much, especially when I can’t remember a thing from the mandatory photography class I had to take for my Journalism degree. I vaguely recall the Rule of Thirds but beyond that, don’t know an F-stop from a flux capacitor.
I accidentally left my credit card at a restaurant a few nights ago. After frantic searching, I realized what I’d done and went to pick it up. I didn’t have any pockets so I put it in my bra and thought, “I won’t lose it now.” Naturally within 10 minutes, I’d misplaced it again. For awhile I thought the heat of my heaving bosoms might have caused the flimsy plastic to disintegrate but fortunately soon remembered I’d put it in my purse. Phew!