As the reluctant recipient of my cousin-in-law’s loser gift during a recent White Elephant Christmas Exchange, I feel even more like a victim these days than usual. I must say, it’s nice to be back in my comfort zone! Since passive-aggressive revenge against my latest nemesis isn’t possible for at least another year, it’s probably unnecessary to continue blogging about this topic … pffft, are you kidding? I didn’t get where I am today in the ongoing feud department by simply forgiving and forgetting.
Think your dog is the bee’s knees? Think again and meet my dog, Buffy, the
vampire nap slayer. Well, Buffy’s not really my dog, per se. She belongs to my parents. But I like to consider her mine and think she likes me better than everyone else … because she does! Who else would sit on the floor with her and let her lick their arm for twenty minutes? Give her an extra treat when no one’s looking? And also another snack, just a little one, when everyone’s looking? Look for her cute, confused face at the door, patiently waiting to be let back inside because she never quite figured out that barking works pretty well for that?
a) there actually is a living, breathing race of pig/human hybrids, we live in a house made of wolf-resistant brick, and now we’re finally free to be the oinkers we truly are!
b) we pig-people are a bunch of showboatin’ hams, obsessed with going viral at all costs!
c) which means the swine flu is going back around — better get your vaccination (unless you’re already a pig, then you’re totally fine)!
My mom is a kind, generous soul sister who’d dig into her giant purse at the bequest of just about any charity. But her favorite charity case of all is ME, so back off, Humane Society commercials, with your limping dogs and disease-ridden kittens — I need all the help I can get. I want chicken, I want liver (no, I don’t), Mom Mix, Mom Mix, please deliver.