“Only if we are secure in our beliefs can we see the comical side of the universe.”

“Only if we are secure in our beliefs can we see the comical side of the universe.”

Monday, November 11, 2013

A Favorite Picture and Some Oversharing

Good Monday and Happy Veterans Day to you, friends! Peenie and I are both thinking about Paw today. Here's a picture of him (possibly my favorite, cause it looks like it's from the set of South Pacific) when he was overseas during WWII:


Kinda blurry, but isn't he handsome? Best to all of you on this day, but especially to those of you who have family and friends who are veterans. Our love and prayers go out to you.

So, I know this is oversharing, but there's so much activity at Peenie's house these days that I can't even take a poop. Sorry, but it's true. Between Peenie squalling for me every five minutes and the phone ringing every 10, I can't turn the bathroom light on without having to yell out, "What?!", or turn back around to answer the phone. It's driving me crazy. Think I'm making this up? In the seven minutes it's taken me to type the words above, the phone has already rung twice and Peenie has yelled for me three times. Last night, after I finally got the little nut to bed, I walked into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet, and the phone rang. I ignored it. Then Peenie's cell phone rang. Also ignored it. Then the house phone rang again. I'd lost all focus by then, so I got up and answered it. Uncle Bruce asking for Peenie. Told him she was asleep. Hung the phone up, walked to the bathroom, and it rang again. Walked back, answered it. This time it was Aunt Pandy. Chatted with her a bit, told her Peenie was asleep. Hung up, but by that time, I'd been holding it so long I didn't even have to go anymore. I kid you not. So friends and family, please do me a favor. Peenie goes to sleep between 7:30 and 8:30. Please, please, please do not call at that time...cause I need to poop.

...I hope I still have readers after this post.

I'll leave you with this:

As Peenie and I ate dinner together one night last week, she confessed something to me. Dot Smith, one of Peenie's best friends who lives two doors down from us, used to have a vegetable garden. Years and years ago, Peenie went for a run around lunchtime and saw a big, juicy tomato right in the middle of the garden. She was so hungry, she said, that she ran right over, grabbed it, and gobbled it up as she ran down the street. She's never told Dot.

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