…another reason why I hate autocorrect.
Last month, I was in Wisconsin Dells at a statewide training for the Day Job (and I may blog about that later because it was more fun than it sounds). To cheer me from being away from home, as well as to keep me awake and help make my sanity checks, Brian (the World’s Greatest Husband) texted me, often with pictures of our critters. At one point in a terrible seminar on Time Management, the presenter showed a slide with a dog. I texted Brian a picture with the caption, “Nibbler is calling me big time!” Brian texted back, “He misses his mama, and Nina says this Bentley ain’t going to rub itself.”
He meant belly/belleh, but that’s autocorrect for you. We had an interesting time telling this story to Prince Mekhi and explaining that a Bentley is a luxury car. Then I had to explain the word “luxury” to Mekhi. The kid has had a challenging life in his nine years.
Speaking of the Dogs
I finally gave up on trying to give Nibbler and Nina baths. It’s easier to pay someone to do it. A pet store on Main Street in Sun Prairie (two blocks from our house) had an excellent pet groomer. She’d cut Nibbler’s fur in such a way that his butt was covered, but poop wouldn’t get in his fur. Unfortunately, she had a family emergency earlier in the year, so we had to find a different groomer. Found one that is good and not as expensive, but not as skilled as the previous groomer, who used to give Nibbler the dog equivalent of a Brazilian.
Nibbler is such a mama’s boy; he’ll plop himself on me to make sure I don’t get out of bed. Wouldn’t be so bad except that he lies on me with his tail wagging in my face. Hey, so long as he doesn’t fart…
Earlier in the year our insurance agent sent us a letter regarding home coverage we might want to consider; we had a good laugh over the “jewelry and furs” suggestion because Brian only can buy jewelry for me from the Packers Pro Shop or Think Geek.com, and our “furs” are three cats and two dogs!
Speaking of Gifts
I started my Christmas shopping on December 1st. For the record: Even though I am a Pagan who does a Yule ritual every year, and Brian is an atheist; we still celebrate Christmas, albeit with a Jewish vibe on December 25th proper. Our first married Christmas, I almost gave Brian a flannel shirt. When I showed it to him, he admitted how much he hates to receive practical gifts for Christmas. My mother gave us clothes, including underwear, for Christmas (from “Santa”) as well as items like deodorant in our stockings. Because my birthday is at the end of August, she frequently gave me school supplies. Happy effing birthday. Since that first Christmas, Brian and I have a “no practical gifts” rule that is sacrosanct.
So, what do we do for the holidays?
Prince Mekhi spends the night with us on December 23rd, and we decorate the tree together (in fact, Mekhi and I already are counting down the days with a Star Wars Lego Advent Calendar). On Christmas Eve morn, Mekhi opens his presents from us (Mom #1 raised all her children with the truth about Santa Claus, but she is okay with whatever we give to Mekhi). Then Brian and I drop off Mekhi at Home #1 before we have supper with my wonderful in-laws in Janesville.
Christmas Day is similar to Thanksgiving in that we usually do our own thing. In this case, we order Chinese food to be delivered and sometimes go see a movie. I already bought tickets to Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens.
Boxing Day traditionally is not a holiday in the USA, but December 26 is my late mother’s birthday. My siblings and I sometimes get together, usually at a restaurant in the aforementioned Dells. I let my siblings make the plans because I’ve had an easier time herding cats than I have planning anything with my siblings. I think the last time Brian and I were a priority in the lives of my siblings was our wedding day in July of 1991.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
WGH: Why don’t we build forts in bed?
Me: Because the dogs hog all the blankets.
delazan 