My elderly dog was put on a new pain medication for his arthritis today and I could swear that he is buzzed. I just watched him try to get a drink of water and he had trouble lining up his head with the bowl. When he DID get it over the bowl his tongue missed the water at first. I only gave him a quarter of a tablet as the vet recommended so I was surprised at how odd his behavior is. I can only assume that it made his head fuzzy. It's quite funny to watch. Hilarious actually. (Down PETA!) At least I know he's getting a bit of relief! He's very old (fourteen) for his breed; they usually only live for about twelve years. Hopefully, he'll adjust to the new medication because the stuff he was on before bothered his stomach. I'm not sure bumping into things will help the arthritis though.
Don't ask me why I'm posting this.
It's this or scrubbing down the bathroom I guess.
Unfortunately, it's tough to post spiritual stuff with 4 girls under the age of nine running around here. Plus, there's only one bathroom...
Anyway, offering up high-pitched squeals and shrieks is helpful to the souls in purgatory, you know. I'm getting a lot accomplished despite how things look. Goes to show how looks can be deceiving, doesn't it?
I had to look up high-pitched on Google because I couldn't remember if it was one word or not. So, I tapped in high-pitched and Google suggested "high-pitched bowel sounds". Is it only me or are computers taking over the world lately?
As a side note, my husband says PETA means "people eating tasty animals". Unfortunately... he tells PETA that too.
And, yes, he's from Texas...
Showing posts with label This is my life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label This is my life. Show all posts
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
I would feel bad for a robber...
...if he picked me to mug. Yesterday, Randy and I headed to his work's credit union which is about twenty minutes away. You have to take a toll road to get there. About 30 seconds before we got to the tollbooth, Randy glanced over at me:
"Hon, you got any money?"
"Uhmmm, nooo, how 'bout you?"
"Nothing in these pockets 'cept lint."
"Well, lint won't work. You think they take debit cards?"
"Don't think so. Can't you scrape something out of that bottomless pit you call a purse?"
"I'll try." So we pulled over into the breakdown lane while I started digging into the pit purse. Ten balled up gum wrappers later I handed Randy my "treasure".
"That's only 70 cents! That's all the change you have?!"
"Yup."
"Dig deeper, please. We can't turn around, there's no place to do that!" I scraped up three more pennies from the dregs of my purse and handed it to him.
"Well...here goes nothing." We pulled up to the tollbooth, heads hanging, and showed the lady our 73 cents. The three pennies had little bits of gum encrusted on them. The lady frowned down at it and handed us a bill for $1.50. Red-faced we drove away.
Moral of the story:
When you go on trips that require toll money, don't forget to bring the kid who collects all your spare change and keeps it in her little Hello Kitty coin purse.
And, just as a side note for those whose deepest desire in life is a career as a tollbooth operator - you must past a lip curling and eyebrow waggling exam to apply. This is not an option....it's a requirement. Just a friendly reminder for all you tollbooth operator wannabes out there.
"Hon, you got any money?"
"Uhmmm, nooo, how 'bout you?"
"Nothing in these pockets 'cept lint."
"Well, lint won't work. You think they take debit cards?"
"Don't think so. Can't you scrape something out of that bottomless pit you call a purse?"
"I'll try." So we pulled over into the breakdown lane while I started digging into the pit purse. Ten balled up gum wrappers later I handed Randy my "treasure".
"That's only 70 cents! That's all the change you have?!"
"Yup."
"Dig deeper, please. We can't turn around, there's no place to do that!" I scraped up three more pennies from the dregs of my purse and handed it to him.
"Well...here goes nothing." We pulled up to the tollbooth, heads hanging, and showed the lady our 73 cents. The three pennies had little bits of gum encrusted on them. The lady frowned down at it and handed us a bill for $1.50. Red-faced we drove away.
Moral of the story:
When you go on trips that require toll money, don't forget to bring the kid who collects all your spare change and keeps it in her little Hello Kitty coin purse.
And, just as a side note for those whose deepest desire in life is a career as a tollbooth operator - you must past a lip curling and eyebrow waggling exam to apply. This is not an option....it's a requirement. Just a friendly reminder for all you tollbooth operator wannabes out there.
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