Living with a boy is weird. Part II

Wednesday night I offered my brother a glass of wine. He said, "Sure, but only so you don't have to drink alone."

Last night he texted me and said I had better be home in time for The Office/Always Sunny/The League.
While we were watching the shows, I signed onto facebook and after a few minutes noticed a chat message that said, "U.smell."
I asked him, "When did you send that to me?"
"Uh, a loooong time ago."
"Really?"
"Yes, at 9:31."
"It's only 9:32."
"Exactly."

Living with a boy is weird.

It's puppet show time!

The other day my neighbor had the following conversation with her first grader:

Fae: Mom, you know that thing that boys have that girls don't?
Mary Jo: Umm, what do you mean?
Fae: You know. They go to the bathroom with it. Daddies have them too.
Mary Jo: Oh. Yes. What about it?
Fae: Danny Waters showed me his on the playground.

Mary Jo had a little chat with the teacher who said, "Oh reeeeally? That doesn't usually happen until April! They're a little ahead of schedule this year. Looks like we'll have to schedule our puppet show to address that a little earlier than usual."

Neked

Sooooooomeone decided to pick out his own socks...

and got totally BUSTED.

 

But really, when you're stark neked aren't socks the first thing you grab, too?

I want this dog.

Speaking of Ebbie...what do you think the chances are that I could train the little scamp to do ANY of this?

I'd say...less than slim to none.

Charmingly disgusting

This morning Ebbie was extraordinarily clingy.

She also has a kitty cold.

One of these things resulted in me saying, "Aww," when she curled up under my chin. The other ended with an, "Eww," after she rubbed her cold, runny nose on my cheek followed by a sneeze too big for a creature that only weighs 6lbs. She's lucky she's so cute.

Now she's sleeping on my heating pack, listening to my theme song of the moment. Not gonna lie...I'm more than a little jealous.

A Pinkberry Prayer

 

Dear Saint Honoré,

    

Before I get started I just wanted to tell you that I couldn't find a patron saint of frozen yogurt, or even of icecream, but since you're the patron saint of desserts I thought you might be the right person for this prayer/letter. If you aren't, could you please forward it along? That'd be peachy.

  
  
 
Ok so here's the thing...if you could bring Pinkberry to Minnesota it'd make me the happiest girl in the world. Also, the poorest. But don't they always say it is better to be happy than rich, or something like that?

 





 
I trust you to make the right decision on this one.
Amen.

Love,
Caley Jennifer

Living with a boy is weird.

The other night I got home from work and my brother was in sweat pants, a t-shirt, and his camo bomber hat. I asked him what he was doing wearing a big, furry hat inside and he said, "I just finished cleaning."

Later that night he yelled to me from the living room, "You owe me. I just finished your Little Ceasars for you."

Living with a boy is weird.