The best present I may have ever gotten is this little 10 lb. ball of fur curled up between me and the laptop (in an effort to thwart my affection for anything but him, of course). I realize that a fair amount of his attachment to me has to do with my purchase of Snausages and the only two types of dog food he will currently eat (Pedigree lamb & rice and Alpo ribeye) and probably the fact that I’m the only person on the planet concerned with washing and shaving his butt. But when I think of 2007, it’s going to be the year we came back to sanity (aka the ghetto trailer) and the year Pascal came to life. It’s entirely wrong (and I said I would never be the crazy dog lady), but he’s my baby. He is spoiled absolutely rotten by every person who knows him and I’m pretty sure at some point in the near future my mother’s barely veiled attempts to keep him captive at her house will escalate into all out war! Where IS the trebuchet when you need it!?!
That being said, I’m very proud that after nearly a year M. is finally throwing himself into the spirit of Southern country livin’ (we’re not allowed to say living…it’s too cosmopolitan). However, there’s a special kind of torture in owning a Directv dish once your Yankee husband learns the beauty of being able to flip seamlessly between bull riding and wrestling (which he’s convinced is real…he even thought Vince McMahon had really been blown up…oh how I hate knowing this much about the WWE). And now thanks to Whopper freakouts, I have to explain to him that McD’s special sauce is Thousand Island dressing. (It’s best if you don’t ask how this came up. It involves switching one for the other and is very complicated and mostly confined to his brain stem.)
M.’s been very cute in a 1950’s sort of way these last few days because I’ve started applying for jobs around here. This is hard to do since I’m limited to areas within a few miles of his school, and the only thing here is an Army base. And did I mention that I’m over-qualified for 98% of the jobs here? Since I actually found maybe 3 that I might be able to force my way into, he’s become very down, and really hates the idea of me going to work. Strip me of my feminism badge & special tampon pull ring if you must, but I love that. I’ll gladly pick up another scalloped apron for this guy. What’s that you say darling? You’d rather I sit at home and eat bonbons? Why I’ll do my best to suffer through it. ::batting my eyelashes, fanning myself and trying not to get the vapors:: Unfortunately, Pascal’s demand for Snausages and the only two edible dog foods in the known world is trumping our dreams of an I Love Lucy/Leave it to Beaver/Father Knows Best existence.
So here’s hoping 2008 brings prosperity and lots of really cool Snausages for one and all!!! Wooohooo!
Honeywine, because life’s better with sweetness… 