OldDogNewTits












After my recent post this week about Johnny Depp’s birthday, I started thinking to myself about the other recurring subject matter here at ODNT. And wondering just how recurring some of it actually was. And after I was done wondering, I began worrying. “Good Gosh, Michele,” said my very dorky, Ned Flanders-y inner voice, “I’d hate to think that you’re a one-trick-pony. Are you offering a diverse enough menu to your readers?” (Again, my inner voice is a HUGE dork.)

So, in the interest of appeasing my dorky side, let’s take a look at how often some of my most popular keywords showed up around here, shall we?

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  1. Alec Baldwin – 11

  2. Musical Theater – 14

  3. Johnny Depp – 19

  4. Hamster – 27

  5. Dean – 37

  6. Vivien – 43

  7. Ketchup – 66

  8. Cheese – 95

  9. Cat – 254

.

So Ketchup beat out the kids. Well, I guess that’s no big surprise. It IS a recurring theme around here. And, of course, cheese topped that. (distracted) Cheese-topped. (drool) Damn it. Now I’m hungry.

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But that THIS freak show conquered everything to be my most recurring topic of conversation? Well, I guess we know who the cat lady’s gonna be in my neighborhood in a few decades.

* * * * * * * * *

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June is Blog Post by Numbers Month. Wanna play with Mel and me? Just write a “listy-type” post with a number in the title (ex. FOUR Reasons I Love Mayonnaise, SIX Things You Can Do With A Paper Clip). Then link back to us and tweet us about it so we can include you on June 30th in our final list: (Number-Yet-To-Be-Determined) Great Bloggers Who Played the Blog Post by Numbers Game!

Vote for me @ Top Mommy Blogs - Mom Blog Directory

 

 

About these ads



Maybe it’s because it’s a big election year.

Maybe it’s because she loves me.

Or maybe it’s just because it provides yet another platform for her to showcase her two favorite little varmints.

In any event, my girl is determined to help me secure my position in the Circle of Moms Top 25 Funny Moms Contest. Previous campaign efforts include Herve in the Kitchen and Herve’s Crippling Food Issues. And now she’s back with a third creation, her latest pro-ODNT propaganda entitled “The Case of the Missing Hot Pocket.”

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Confused? Don’t be. It’s a pretty simple concept. She draws something funny, you laugh hysterically and then you think to yourself, “Gosh, what a funny blog! I wonder if there are any nice people out there who give awards for this kind of crazy stuff.”

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Well, wonder no more, laughing Benetton ad people. The answer is yes. You can vote right here. Every day until February 13. And here’s how:

1. Click here.

2. Scroll down to ODNT.

3. Click “VOTE.”

Silver Circle – Vote daily AND pressure friends to do the same.

Gold Circle - Vote daily, pressure friends to do the same AND post on all social media.

Platinum Circle – Vote daily, pressure friends to do the same, post on all social media AND wear sandwich board whenever awake to help promote the cause.

You can vote for as many women as you like. I recommend AccordingToMags, HotMessMom and Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms … to name just a few. Take a minute and look around once you’re in. There’s a whole mess of funny at that party. Just remember to vote. So ODNT, Jr’s efforts aren’t all in vain. Thanks.

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * Got five seconds? * * * * *

Please click that FANCY PANTS PINK BALL (above) to visit the Circle of Moms site and vote for ODNT for Top 25 Funny Moms.

I need this, people! Someone stole my Hot Pocket!

You can vote daily until February 13. Thanks!

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A year ago, I wrote a post about one of the most famous poems ever written. I came across it recently … “and I laughed when I read it, in spite of myself.” Okay, fine. So that’s not exactly how the poem goes. Which is sort of the whole point. It was tough coming up with a second set of jokes for some of these stanzas. But I managed. Or maybe I mangled. Either way, it’s pretty much the same word.

So, with that, I give you ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas – Mystery Science Theater 3000-Style – TAKE TWO!

* * * * * * * * * *

‘Twas the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse

  • Technically, he’s not a mouse. But I bet Herve’s going to be doing some serious nocturnal “stirring” on Christmas Eve. Does anyone know what the Benadryl dosage would be for a hamster? He weighs just over 5 ounces.

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Here’s the proof. And now I have to throw away that food bowl.

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And here’s how much he weighs when he’s blurry.

 

The stockings were hung 
By the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas
Soon would be there

  • I’m glad the elf brought us a new “H” stocking for Herve. Originally, we planned to use the cat’s old one with an “M” on it. And, if Herve asked, the plan was to tell him that the stocking stood for “MY Herve.” Honestly, I don’t know what would have pissed him off more … the fact that we thought he was stupid enough to fall for that lame explanation OR the fact that he was expected to use Milo’s hand-me-downs.

The children were nestled
All snug in their beds
While visions of sugar plums
Danced in their heads

  • I just paid a dental bill on TWO fillings for one of my kids. So, there will be NO sugar plums, Sugar Smacks, sugar cookies, Sugar Babies, Sugar Daddies or even sugar snap peas. Yes, I know we still need three syllables for the poem. How about “While visions of toothbrushes danced in their heads?” No? What about dental floss? Fluoride rinse? Fine. I’ll keep thinking.

And mama in her kerchief
And I in my cap
Had just settled our brains
For a long winter’s nap

  • The day I go to sleep with a kerchief on is the day you people can finally come commit me. A kerchief? Who wears those? I mean … besides the Brady girls.

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And it always meant they were going to be doing some kind of serious cleaning in that episode.

When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed
To see what was the matter

  • OMG, really? I already go to bed late enough that night. You know what I want for Christmas, Santa? Sleep. On Christmas Eve and every night for that matter. So, please … keep it down.

Away to the window
I flew like a flash
Tore open the shudders
And threw up the sash

  • Why all the fancy-pants window dressing? I merely have curtains in my room. From J.C. Penney. You can look out the window in one easy step. And there’s no “tearing” or “throwing” involved. It sounds so violent.

The moon on the breast
Of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday
To objects below

  • Beavis and Butthead would have a field day with this stanza. Seriously, I have looked up “breast” on ten different dictionary-style websites. And none of them stray from the mammary gland. What the hell, Mr. Moore?

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I guess this looks a little like a breast. I mean … when the moon shines on it. Right?

When what to my wondering
Eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh
And eight tiny reindeer

  • I would think that a sleigh large enough to carry the big guy not to mention at least one present for every kid around the globe would be described as anything but “miniature.” And “tiny” reindeer? Animals capable of towing this load would have to be ‘roided up Clydesdales. … Wouldn’t they?

With a little old driver
So lively and quick
I knew in a moment
It must be St. Nick

  • A little old driver named Nick makes him sound like a cabbie from a 1970s sitcom.

More rapid than eagles
His coursers they came
And he whistled and shouted
And called them by name

  • Anyone who whistles or shouts once my kids finally pass out on Christmas Eve is getting a brick of coal chucked firmly at his head.

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Yes, yes. We all know it’s not me. But I bet he’d pipe down for this chick.

Now Dasher, Now Dancer
Now Prancer and Vixen
On Comet, On Cupid
On Donner and Blitzen

  • Originally, these names were all slated as tribute names for the Hunger Games trilogy. “Now Katniss, Now Peeta, Now Foxface and Glimmer …”

To the top of the porch
To the top of the wall
Now dash away, dash away
Dash away all

  • Since I have one-story home, might you consider just landing on the lawn for a change? Or, better yet, on my neighbor’s roof? You can’t seriously hop from rooftop to rooftop. Aren’t you like the mailman? You park, handle a number of houses in close proximity, then return to your vehicle to relocate it for the next set of houses. Right?

As dry leaves that before
The wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle
Mount to the sky

  • As a kid, this stanza was always my LEAST FAVORITE of this poem. Which is weird because … WHAT OTHER KID DO YOU KNOW WHO’S DECLARED A LEAST FAVORITE STANZA IN ANY POEM? (Nerd.)

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Also not me … but we’re getting warmer.

So up to the housetop
The coursers they flew
With a sleigh full of toys
And St. Nicholas, too

  • They’re always on the tops of houses, but what of those who don’t have chimneys? Sure, we have one NOW. But it was a pretty uphill climb that my parents took us on with the whole “Santa has a key that fits every lock” story back in the day.

And then in a twinkling
I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing
Of each little hoof

  • If I hear pawing or scratching at my ceiling or walls during the night, I will be found hiding in the back of my closet in the fetal position clutching a vial of holy water and a crucifix.

As I drew in my head
And was turning around
Down the chimney St. Nicholas
Came with a bound

  • Nope. Never mind. I stand corrected. A fat killer sliding down my chimney is what would send me into the closet.

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He makes the Grinch look like a kitten.

He was dressed all in fur
From his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished
With ashes and soot

  • Fine. A fat, DIRTY killer.

A bundle of toys
He had flung on his back
And he looked like a peddler
Just opening his pack

  • He’s reaching into his … HELP! HE’S GOT A GUN!

His eyes how they twinkled
His dimples how merry
His cheeks were like roses
His nose like a cherry

  • Oh, thank God. He was just reaching for his flask. That dude is completely juiced.

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“Ten lords a-dancing, Nine ladies swimming, Seven … I mean … EIGHT GOLDEN GEESE!!! (hiccup) .. Four calling hens …”

His droll little mouth
Was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin
Was as white as the snow

  • I know I sound like a hypocrite here but I do not think we should be making fun of the old drunk’s mouth.

The stump of his pipe
He held tight in his teeth
And the smoke, it encircled his head
Like a wreath

  • A pipe?!!? Oh, God. Please be ordinary tobacco …. please be ordinary tobacco …

He had a broad face
And a round little belly
That shook when he laughed
Like a bowl full of jelly

  • I really don’t think we should kick a man when he’s down.

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“Shut up, you guys. Can you believe Fatty’s still trying to pull off that furry track suit? I’m surprised the Red Cross hasn’t declared him a total fashion disaster.”

He was chubby and plump
A right jolly, old elf
And I laughed when I saw him
In spite of myself

  • Well, now I just sound like a jerk.

A wink of his eye
And a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know
I had nothing to dread

  • Oh, God. I think he’s making a pass at me.

He spoke not a word
But went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings
Then turned with a jerk

  • Crap. That’s me. I’M the jerk with whom he’s turning. Damn it. Why did I have to laugh at his obesity?

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Here’s what I see when I look in the mirror. Which means I’m not only a jerk … I’m also a vampire!

And laying his finger
Aside of his nose
And giving a nod
Up the chimney he rose

  • I always thought this seemed like a baseball signal. Or maybe a cue from the Mafia.

He sprang to his sleigh
To his team gave a whistle
And away they all flew
Like the down of a thistle

  • Anyone know what that means? I didn’t so I looked it up. It’s that white feathery weed you blew on as a kid to make a wish. I can still remember my old neighbor saying, “DON’T BLOW THAT CRAP ALL OVER MY YARD! GO IN YOUR OWN YARD TO SPREAD WEEDS, YOU BRAINLESS WONDER!” Aaaah, memories.

Then I heard him exclaim
As he drove out of sight
Happy Christmas to all
And to all a good night

  • He really tore out of here fast. We are sure he LEFT things at all the houses, right?

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Um … has anyone seen my purse?

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That Suburban Momma


{August 22, 2012}   Happy 1st Anniversary, ODNT!

Yes, that’s right. Just one year ago today, I wrote a blog post

… then sweated buckets about it, sent proofs to half a dozen people, second guessed myself, ate a pound of cheese and drank a bottle of wine contemplating it, considered scrapping the whole thing, third guessed myself, cried quietly, berated myself in front of the mirror …

and hit publish.

It’s been a very interesting first year. CLICK ON THE IMAGE BELOW to see just a few of the highlights in my scrapbook.

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If you’re interested in reading some of the stories in this scrapbook, I’ve included the links for you at the end of this post. Because I understand lazy. And I know I would NEVER bother to look them up on my own. And I’m assuming that, if you read this blog, you’re probably lazy like me. So I did your heavy lifting for you today.

Thanks to all of you for riding shotgun with me the past year. Here’s to year number two!

The Posts that Inspired ‘Things You Read About on ODNT (2011-12)’

  1. Man Boobs Quiz  & Answers
  2. Hoarder on Wheels
  3. Naked Mole Rats Introduction & Tweeting Spree
  4. Norma Stitz
  5. Bitchy Barbies Introduction, Playdate & Acquisition
  6. Red Hair Dye Phobias
  7. Drug Hallucinations
  8. Tumor Look-a-like Contest
  9. The AMC Letters: One, Two, Three & Four
  10. Bag Balm
  11. Just Say No to Saving the Earth
  12. Paging Mr. Baldwin: The Appeal & The Response
  13. Hunger Games Prequel
  14. My Junior Novel (maybe)
  15. How does one say Goodbye to a Toilet?
  16. A Hairy Day at Disney World
  17. A Cow named Michele
  18. Creating a New Identity for my Class Reunion
  19. When Johnny Depp came to my BBQ
  20. Spray Cheese Delivered to your Door
  21. Things You Learn While Drinking Wine
  22. A Bloody Good Idea for Next Summer
  23. The Hamster’s Going to Need a Lot of Therapy

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Wouldn’t this have been a horrible way to come into the world?

Gender identity. Something that my generation is probably a little more liberated about than all others before it … and possibly since. We were introduced to Ziggy Stardust as very young children and spent our teens years rocking to one set of dudes in eyeliner and lipstick after another on 80s MTV. And it was considered totally hot back then. Except I’m pretty sure we said “fine.”

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Duran Duran’s Nick Rhodes, wearing more make-up than I wore to my own wedding.

Where am I going with this? Do I have a point, you ask? Well, yes. Yes, I do. Thanks for asking. Remember Herve? The newest member of my household? The rodent that my dear little ODNT, Jr. pined for, submitted blog posts about and finally won for her birthday?

Yes. THAT Herve.

She knew what she wanted to name her pet before we even went to the store. So, it’s not like he looked like a Herve or anything. Don’t most kids go with names like Peanut or Nibbles? Not mine. I remember her saying, “I cleared out a spot in my room. I’m ready to go pick up Herve now.” I tried explaining that Herve might not actually be a HE but she contended that the name would still work as HER- ve. “Fine,” I answered, worrying quietly about how much money I’d be shelling out over the years for a hamster with a confused sense of self.

We brought him home, always certain he was a him, until one day he fell asleep belly up in my hand. And his tiny “features” indicated to me that we should be making more of an effort to accent the first syllable of his/her name. From that point on, I decided to embrace the pink cage and buy our hamster some diet food, fancy chocolate and maybe a subscription to Cosmo.

So Her-VE became HER-ve. (Ask Chaz Bono. It’s a difficult adjustment to make. For any species.)

Weeks passed and things were rolling along just fine. While the kids were in school, HER-ve and I enjoyed long lunches together at a little bistro in town. We got mani/pedis at a cheap nail joint around the corner. We even formed a book group and started talking about 50 Shades.

Until one day last week when I saw HER-ve dragging a “bag of gym balls” behind her/him. And my girl kept asking why her hamster’s butt was getting so big. (If you’ve never noticed how gifted rodents are in this department, google it. Or just click here. I could not bring myself to post a picture of hamster testicles. You’re in the driver’s seat now. YOU get to decide if you need to see this image.)

Anyway, now we’re back to Her-VE. Our lunch dates have ceased and I switched his magazine subscription to Sports Illustrated. And I don’t clean his cage as frequently. He’s got hands. If he wants it clean, he can help out once in a while.

And my girl? Well, she doesn’t give a hamster’s ass what he is. As long as she has a rodent threatening to break free from his cage and scare the crap out of me in the middle of the night somewhere in this house, she’s happy.

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She even drew this picture for today’s post.

Let’s just hope we can finally commit to the blue rodent bedding from Petco.

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Last week, we finally got around to celebrating my girl’s birthday … which was in May. Don’t judge. We all have busy lives, right? Anyway, we had a roller skating party for a bunch of her little girlfriends. And I LOVE how important it still is for her to say “Mama, come skate with us!” I DON’T love that my butt still hurts from the two spills I took at the party. (The first was a shoelace malfunction so I chalk only the second up to genetic spazzery.)

Anyway … my point is that we’ll pretty much do anything for our kids. Right? Of course, right. Which is the perfect lead in to today’s post. Remember that hamster my girl’s been angling for since last Spring? The one she swore she could keep Milo from ingesting?

Yeah, THAT one.

Well, a mother can only take so much begging. I guess I kept thinking about the cats … and dogs … and birds … and gerbils … and newts … and fish … and whatever else we managed to coerce MY parents into getting for us as kids. And I broke down. As always, Dave was there long before I was. But he had a pet nutria as a kid, for freak’s sake.

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Yes, I AM serious.

Isn’t his expression (and the hind saddle portion of his meat, according to my Cajun friends) delicious?)

So, with my boy sleeping out the night of the party, it was just Dave, my girl and me. And naturally, I thought “What better way to pass the evening than to bring a rodent intentionally into the house?”
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Three pet store visits and $50 later … and we had him.

We must have seen at least 30 hamsters that night but my girl honed in on hers immediately. She liked him because he was the runt and he was all wet because he kept spastically falling into his own water bowl. (Sigh.) Do we really need another clumsy little freak around here?

So, anyway, without further ado, please allow me to present the latest member of our family …

  • the one Milo is most excited about …
  • he poops in your hand but not in your … (Bet I could turn that into the world’s grossest M&M slogan)
  • your hamster … and mine

Herve!

(Pause for applause … or laughter … your call)

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Are you thinking of Fantasy Island, too? Because I just can’t shake it.

I just know this little varmint is going to provide me with miles and miles of blog fodder. So, thanks in advance, Herve. I realize you might actually be a female but my girl said your name would still work because it’s “HER-ve.” … What’s that? Please just shut up and go with it. You’re a hamster. What do YOU care?” … (cough, sputter) I mean, uh … Welcome …
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… and please don’t kill me.

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me




Remember Amy Ragg, our winner of the Jud & Bill Episode 11 Contest?

Well, the hardworking people here at ODNT mailed off her glorious prize package this week … and we just received notification that she has received it!

hardworking /härd·wər’·kiNG/ cheese-eating, oversleeping, always looking for a shortcut to get the job done

people /pē’·pəl/ ODNT herself and her two kids, undoubtedly violating the child labor laws of this country 

glorious /glô’··əs/ something you would give your co-worker as a gag gift

And, in the interest of building suspense and keeping the surprise for Amy, we didn’t want to reveal the contents of this valuable prize package … until now.

suspense /sə·spens’/ a cheap and lazy grab at another blog post

valuable /ˈval·yo͞o’·ə·bəl/ worth at least the cost of the envelope and stamp that got it there

* * * * * * * * * * 

So, here’s what Amy got in the mail today. Hold on to your hats.

First, there was the letter. And, with the bottomless expense account afforded to me here at ODNT, I used only the finest stationery.

bottomless /ˈbä’·təm·les/ whatever could be scraped together from the recesses of her purse

stationery /stā’·SHə·ne·rē/ loose leaf shoved in her girl’s bedroom drawer next to a ceramic kitty

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Then, as the letter promised and because we are all about it here at ODNT, I included some of the finest cheeses I could get my hands on here in the Southeastern Region of these United States. For the record, they are considered a delicacy in this household.

finest /fīn’·est/ edible, suitable for mailing, within the budgetary limits

delicacy /del’·i··sē/ something requested for inclusion in a Christmas stocking, best enjoyed with Wheat Thins

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And finally, my favorite part of the prize package. My girl (dubbed ODNT Jr. by my pal, Mel at According to Mags) took the time to recreate our famous Jud & Bill portrait in watercolor, customizing it with a special message for our winner.

watercolor /ˈwô’·tər··lər/ bits of paperless Crayola littering the bottom of the junk drawer

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Check out how it compares to the original winning photo (coincidentally submitted by Amy’s father, Wyman Ragg) for our Jud & Bill Photo Contest. Perhaps I’m biased, but I think the kid is simply amazing.

amazing /ə·mā’·ziNG/ amazing

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She even signed it on the flip side.

flip side /flip sīd/ Sure, I could’ve just said “back” but I like the sound of flip side. Reminds me of 45 records and my youth.

youth /yo͞oTH/ something just revealed to have taken place long ago by letting the term ’45 record’ slip

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Editor’s Note – From the messages I’ve received since announcing this secret prize package, I know I have disappointed many of you by NOT sending a hamster through the mail to Amy. Quite frankly, I’m very flattered that you considered me competent enough to devise a method for mailing live cargo. Maybe next time.

I’d have to use dry ice, right?


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cha·grin (sh-grn)

n. A keen feeling of mental unease, as of annoyance or embarrassment, caused by failure, disappointment, or a disconcerting event

As in … Much to the chagrin of our family cat, my girl is hell bent on bringing a hamster into our household.

Okay, whatever. Milo would probably be positively giddy about this delicious new member of the family, even though I don’t think his fat ass is cat enough to catch a cold … or a drift … or innuendo. (Fine, I’ll stop.)

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Either he’s drunk or I rest my case

Anyway … my girl’s been bellyaching about adding a rodent to the mix for years. We (meaning she) have entertained the idea of ferrets, guinea pigs, gerbils, field mice (also known as Snake Chow) and now, finally, dwarf hamsters. And, after pussyfooting around with starter pets like goldfish, tadpoles and hermit crabs, I purposefully jumped ahead to cat, hoping to skip the intermediate vermin level.

No such luck.

Her birthday just passed which, I’m ashamed to admit, we haven’t really celebrated yet. I mean, we did have cake and a few small gifts but her party (likely of the roller skating variety) won’t happen until later this summer. At that time, she is planning to ask if she can “hamsterize” her room. (Feel free to use that verb liberally. It’s mine. Let’s see how long it takes ‘til we get it in the dictionary … or at least on Modern Family.)

She keeps reminding me that the hamster is “only $10.”

  • “I’ll pay for it myself! “ she offers.
  • “I’ll keep it clean so the cage won’t stink!” she promises.
  • “And I’ll guarantee that Milo doesn’t eat it!” she pleads.

Aww, that’s not how the world works, sweetheart. You can’t make that last promise. And, frankly, neither can Milo. Trust me. He’s got plans. BIG plans, my dear.

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But we promised we would consider it.

So, we’ve both been googling rodents (relax, it’s more humane than it sounds) to determine things like (1) which ones suck the least as pets? (2) which are least likely to bite off your fingertips? and (3) which are the best escape artists and, subsequently, the best wall and wire chewers? Thus far, Dave has found some truly useful and interesting information. He’s actually helping my child and family with this decision.

I, on the other hand, have proven to be completely useless. Here’s where I wound up by mistake last night:

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It’s from Craig’s List and it’s 100% real, but the phone number was deleted for the sake of the writer. After reading it … during my girl’s play rehearsal in a CHURCH, mind you … I fell over laughing and completely lost my train of thought for “real” hamster research.

Will we or won’t we?

Only time …and my love for cedar shavings …will tell.

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read to be read at yeahwrite.me



et cetera
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