“GAAAAAAAHHHH!!! HOLY MOTHER OF…!!!” I flap the dish towel in my panic. “What? What is it?” Rissa asks. “Treacherous insect!!” “What!?!” “Okay, so you know how when you said that there was a cobra in the kitty litter?” “I didn’t say there was a cobra in the kitty litter,” Rissa says, peeking around the corner…
It’s a good morning. I manage to wake up without whining about it. David makes me delicious scrambled eggs. I get dressed and throw a little makeup on, you know, just in case the really hot physiotherapist is at the clinic. I even volunteer to move the cars around so that I can make it…
“We need to kill all the cats.” “Huh?” I am lying on my side in bed, eyebrows so low that I can feel them on my upper lip. “WE. NEED. TO. KILL. ALL. THE. CATS.“ “You don’t mean that. You love the cats.” “4:45!“ “Hmmm?” “4 FUCKING 45 this morning Minuit with her fishy kibble…
WARNING: THERE IS BAD LANGUAGE IN THIS POST “Shit-Piss-Fuck-Mother-FUCKER!!” “What? What is it?” David asks, his interest now piqued. “This fucking touchpad!” “Okay, steady on there, my love.” “You fucking steady on – JUST LET ME FUCKING HIGHLIGHT THE FUCKING SENTENCE!!!“ “O…KAY… It’s time to take your hand off the touchpad.” “I HATE IT. I…
“So I tried tea the other day,” says Rissa. “Really? How was it?” asks David. “Bad.” “How so?” “Well it held promise – it was cherry something berry something and it smelled delicious, but then it was all BLAH…” Reading a book, I’m fairly distracticated and don’t hear David’s response. “See she didn’t even hear…
Rissa and I are watching bingeing Gilmore Girls. Cats blanket our already afghaned laps. EMILY: Oh look — Barbara Stanwyck. I just love Barbara Stanwyck. LORELAI: Oh yeah, she’s good. EMILY: She had that wonderful voice — that husky, deep voice. I just love that voice. LORELAI: You know Mom, you have kind of a…
“And in the dream there were waffles in the freezer. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. So I knew exactly what I would have this morning,” says Rissa as she comes down the stairs. “Hmmmm?” I’m on Facebook. The way I used to be able to split my focus – pre-internet? That no longer…
I picked up as many pairs as I could carry in my arms to the cash. Nordic socks from Old Navy. Colourful, Skandihoovian… perfect… until you try to put them on your feet. (movie trailer announcer voice) In a world where quirky fashion puts its foot forward, Heather thought she’d hit pay dirt. Will her…
Says David. “But it’s so good. It’s a great bit.” “I am not a great bit,” he says determinedly. I raise my eyebrows at him. “I am serious. I don’t feel comfortable with you leading a post with that.” I pout. “You’re taking away my comedy.” “No, I’m taking away MY comedy. I don’t want…
I’ve got the PF. Plantar Facsiitis. I can no longer run. I mean, sure I could run if something was chasing me – or if a building was on fire – but I’d pay for it later. I’d get up the next day, attempt to stand on both feet and then collapse to the floor…