Archive | November 2014

One of Those Days

You know how some days you just feel good about yourself?

Those days when your hair cooperates.

Those days when all your clothes fit just right.

Those days when you just feel good.

Today is not one of those days!!!

Today is the day when I go home for lunch after walking around the office all day, unaware, and the Mr. says “What’s that on your shirt?”.

That’s when I find out that the “water spot” on my shirt from brushing my teeth this morning is really a giant grease stain that not only didn’t come out in the wash but has now been seared into the fabric through the magic of the dryer.

It’s a forever spot on my weekly purple shirt.

This is why I should never eat, drink or cook while wearing my be-seen-out-in-the-public clothes.

UGH!!

~Mish~

 

 

Fluffed and Buffed

Today was Spa Day for Taj.

He so loves going to the groomer’s.

He doesn’t like STAYING at the groomer’s but the going is big fun!!

We’re really happy with the clinic where Taj goes, both for grooming and to see the vet.  Everybody is really nice and they seem to really love Taj.

Of course, what’s not to love?!?!?!?!

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It’s a place where everybody knows his name.

Like Norm at Cheers.

When I take him in, all the girls say “Taj!!” as if it’s been forever since they’ve seen him.

And he prances and struts around like the big dog on campus.

But when I pick him up, it’s a different story.

When I go get him at lunchtime, he’s mad.

I mean, he is ticked right off!!

How DARE I leave him.

How DARE I let them clip his toenails.

How DARE I allow the booty-shaving that he so desperately needs.

And today was no different.

He wouldn’t look at me.

He wouldn’t kiss me (and he’s a kisser from way back).

He wanted nothing to do with me………until I started eating lunch.  Then I was his BFF.

So after dropping him off at home, I was heading back to work and my phone rings.

The Mr. has my phone set up to ring through the car stereo and the caller ID even comes up on the console.

That Mr. is one smart dude.

Of course, Mrs. Magoo can’t read the caller ID and drive at the same time so I just hit the button to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Animal Medical Clinic.  I’m calling to let you know that Taj is ready to be picked up.”

…..

“I picked him up already.”

“You did????”

“Yes, about 45 minutes ago.”

“Oh, ok. Bye.”

Oh yes, they are right on the ball today! 🙂

Gave me a bit of a chuckle!

Happy Monday, everyone!!

~Mish~

 

 

Young Preachers & Michael Moore

One of the toughest things about moving to KY was finding a church.

Not that there aren’t lots of great churches in our area but the Mr. & I just couldn’t seem to find one that we both really loved.

Until recently.

We finally found a place that seems to fit our different needs but we can still worship together.

There’s just one little, itty-bitty issue.

It’s MY issue, really.

I went to high school with the preacher.

I know your thinking, “What’s the problem with that??”.

Well, here’s the problem…..

The preacher is MY age.

MY age.

Aren’t preachers supposed to be old??

Preachers and doctors.

Old.

At least older than ME!!

And to make matters worse, this guy looks just exactly like he did in school.

Not one day older.

No pot belly.

No gray hair.

Just the same.

It’s sad, really.

But since he’s a good preacher, I am willing to overlook the fact that he’s just barely over 18.

Like me.  🙂

This past weekend, the Mr. and I both came down with the sickness.

Not sure exactly what the ailment was but we both were feeling rather puney so Monday we stayed home on the couch under a pile of blankets.

It was a yucky day.

But up in the day, the Mr. convinced me that I’d feel better if I took a shower.

Actually, I think I was starting to smell a little ripe and he needed some relief.

So I took a long shower and even washed my greasy, nasty hair.

I did feel a little better.

I got my hair dried and put on some clean lounging-around clothes and that’s when we decided it “feels like an Arby’s night”.

Since it was past dark, the Mr. agreed to drive me to Arby’s if I would go in to get the food.

I know………there’s a wonderful new invention called the “drive-thru” but for some reason, the drive-thru doesn’t work for the Mr.

I don’t know what the problem is.

He pulls right up.

He orders in a clear, concise voice.

But they cannot understand a word he says.

It’s quite comical sometimes but it frustrates him to the max.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s so soft spoken.

Or maybe that he’s a Yankee but whatever the reason, he just can’t use a drive-thru.

So I agreed to the deal.

He’d drive…..I’d go in.

It had snowed that day so I pulled out my big ole NY snow boots and shoved my feet in.  Toasty!

Then I put on my big ole puffy coat that I don’t usually need in KY but it’s very warm.

Now I’m all puffed up.

I look in the mirror and see my pale-as-a-ghost, no-make-up-face staring at me beneath a mess of clean hair.  I need to cover up!!

I grab the Mr.’s ball cap and put on my glasses in hopes of hiding a little of the hideousness.

I look in the mirror.

Michael Moore is staring back at me.

(via ranker.com)

(via ranker.com)

Oh well.

It’s just a quick trip to Arby’s.

No problem.

Off we go and when I get out of the car at Arby’s I tell the Mr. that if he sees me slip on the ice, to come help me up.

Just as I open the restaurant door, I see him.

Right there.

Looking like 1985.

THE PREACHER!!!!

What do I do???

Do I back out and insist that we try the drive-thru?

Do I go in and hope he doesn’t see or recognize me??

Yes, that’s it.

That’s exactly what I’ll do.

And just as I slip inside the Arby’s, he turns and says “Hey, Marsha”!!

He saw AND recognized me!!!

Oh the humanity!

I immediately started fasting and praying that God would call me home to Glory but seeing as God likes a good chuckle as much as I do, He let me struggle on!

Of course, I tried to cough and sniffle as much as possible to make sure that Doogie-Preacher knew that I was afflicted with a sickness and would NEVER go out in the public looking like this otherwise.

I’m not sure he bought it.

I do worry for his kids who were with him, though.

They may need a bit of the therapy to get rid of the nightmares.

Then the most amazing thing happened.

Just as the preacher was finishing up his order, he made a corny joke.

Like really corny.

I chuckled.

It was funny.

The teenager behind the counter looked at him like he had two heads!!!

I guess he’s not that young after all.  🙂

~Mish~

 

I Spy

See this face?

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So cute.

So furry.

So innocent.

So NOT!!

It’s no secret that I love and spoil this little guy rotten.  And most usually he’s good as gold.

But last night he was rambunctious.

He was sneaky.

He was…..well, he was funny!!

I’ve shared with ya’ll before how the Mr. sometimes snores.

Right.In.My.EAR!!

So my solution?  Ear plugs.

Actually plug.  Singular.

I figure since I’ve got one ear firmly smashed into the pillow, I just need a plug for the top ear.  The one he’s snoring directly into!!

So I bought these lovely hot pink ear plugs and keep them on the table beside my bed.  Then if I need one, I can simply reach over, grab a plug and problem solved.

Well, ok, maybe it’s not “simply”.

I do huff and puff and moan and groan just to show that Mr. how much of an annoyance it is to reach over to the side table.

He doesn’t notice.

He just snores away!

Well, the other night, I noticed that one of those hot pink plugs had fallen between the mattress and the rail of the bed and was perched just out of my reach.

I tried to get it but my Pika fingers were too short and my man-hands were too huge to grab it.

So I left it.

Big mistake.

HUGE!

Last night, after staying up later than usual to watch the officials hand over a win to the Miami Dolphins………snatched from the reach of our beloved Buffalo Bills, I finally got in bed and did my wifely duty of scratching the Mr.’s back while he relaxed.

And by wifely duty, I mean I complained and huffed and puffed and flipped and flopped around to show my dislike of this ritual.

He didn’t pay attention.

He was relaxing.

Then we heard it.

A faint scratching sound.

Taj was under the bed!

Now it really doesn’t bother me that he goes under there.  It’s really quite funny to watch him army-crawl from one side to the other.  Though it is pretty dusty down there and he probably doesn’t need to be breathing all that in.

But it bugs the stuffin’ out of the Mr. that he’s under there.  He’s sure that the bed will fall and crush Taj to death.

Now, let’s be clear, we have never, EVER broken our bed down and while we are neither one of us skinny-minny’s, the chances of us falling on our little Taj are pretty slim.

But once the Mr. mentions the squishing of the dog, I start to worry and have to get up and get him out of there.

Last night, though, I was too tired so I just leaned over the bed to call him out.

And when I did, this is what I saw:

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There was that little Taj-y scratching and clawing and licking at the bed rail.

What was he doing??

There’s nothing there!

There’s.

Nothing.

There.

Then it hit me!!!

The plug………..it was gone!!!!

So I guess I’m now on poop patrol until that hot pink plug makes an appearance!!

Should be a fun weekend! 😦

~Mish~