Peanut has had 5 teeth for half of her life… that is, until this weekend. Three new molars- all on one side, all breaking through together. She is a red, crying, back-arching, food-shoving mess right now. There was a point on Saturday when all three human Mulders were in tears together… and Abe was ‘sleeping’ in the basement. He tends to hide his feelings. There is an obvious pattern of 12-hour pain… major episodes seem to rise at 3pm and 3am. Please avoid our house at these times lest you be dragged into the depths of hell. We do have the Jack Daniels– though that’s for me, not her. Yet.
You are looking lovely, if I may say so.
I never showed you my goods from the Keeper’s Recipe Swap-o-ramma. My magnet buddy was Trace, and she presented me with a Coke angel magnet- made and bought in the streets of Africa. It’s the perfect combination of the two of us, no? It’s also maybe the craziest thing I’ve ever seen and I laugh and smile every time I open my fridge. ‘Hello, crazy Coke angel magnet!’ I say to myself. ‘You are looking FINE today!’ I love it so much.
Curt has asked that I unpack my bag from vacation today. I am considering this. He also asked me if he could try out to be an American Gladiator (not a contestant, but an actual Gladiator). To this request, I said an immediate yes. I am, however, concerned that he does not have a NAME. What could his name be?
And finally, is this not the scariest thing you’ve ever seen in your short, sweet life? Many of you remember that my brother and I spent a good portion of our childhood overseas. This explains our love for fresh jelly donuts, Playmobile, and storks. It also explains some of the toys in our childhood boxes. Mom and Dad continue to clean out the attic and re-bestow the treasures, though Red Scary German Bunny is one I could do without. It was actually Danny’s… and you’ll be receiving it as soon as you have a child, Brother. The ears used to be elastic and stand straight up- which I think is part of his problem. Ears would make him less… well, evil. The body rolls like a weeble wobble, and there’s a melodic if not eerie little chime inside him. Rylie, of course, loves him with a passion so great I cannot bear to take him away.
I do put him under the couch at night, though.
You know… so he doesn’t attack me in my sleep.