Oooooo! Fancy fancy.
Really, I’d just like to say that I thank my lucky stars that I was not born a dog, because if I was a barker and my owner put one of those shock collars on me, I would never ever ever ever learn.
I don’t know if its because I’m a sasquatch with long monkey arms, or if its the fact that we have low ceilings, or if I just need to grow A SINGLE WORKING BRAIN CELL, but I am about to show you something I do every. single. day.
I sure don’t mind putting on my pants in the closet, but if I’m going to put on (or take off) a shirt, apparently it wont happen unless I can stick my hand into the high-speed ceiling fan.
I just don’t learn.
And half the time I’m not even standing still. I’m moving from point A to point B and the ceiling fan is waiting RIGHT THERE to catch my hand like some kind of sadistic Monkey in the Middle. And its traumatic and loud and jarring.
EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
In bigger news, I was working on a painting a few weeks back….
And I was all up in its grill, as usual. But then I noticed something. Something that has NEVER happened to me before.
The canvas was blurry!
All my life I’ve been waiting for the moment when I can go out and buy reading classes! I don’t know why…. its not like I want to wear glasses. But I love the thought of not being able to see something right in front of my face and then suddenly when I put these things on my nose….I can see it…..!!!! Its a miracle, no???
So, I just now decided to draw how glasses make me feel, but I’ve also just put the boys down and one of them has “Tee-tee on mine pants!” and the other one is jumping up and down on his crib mattress as if he has to lose 56% of his body weight by midnight. So I stopped paying attention to my drawing after I drew the circle for the face.
So there it is, folks. Exactly how I don’t feel when I put on my reading glasses.
Also, I saw my Wump this week. He’s been living on my Sister-in-law’s ranch. Out with the cows and coyotes and wild pigs. He was all dirty and gross then. But now he’s with the parent’s-in-law and he’s back to his buttery soft clean self. The Wump I know and love.
He’s just so stinking stupid. “Stand up, Wump!”
Biff! Face-plant on my knee.
I love him to stupid pieces.