No news is...what? I don't know. But the casseroles are baked.
While I was running errands yesterday before I went to the grocery store, my car experienced a cataclysmic event and died as I was about to drive into one of the busiest intersections of this city. I would bitch about this more, but God has a way of helping out sometimes--three guys jumped out of their car and immediately rolled me into a gas station, and even though my car is officially out of warranty, this *expensive* (EXPENSIVE!) part was miraculously covered by a different warranty. So, I really have nothing to complain about.
Telly broke a lamp yesterday. He just walked over to a cord, looked right at me as I said no, and pulled. Shatter, shards. Today, I was getting my dance on while I was packing, and I was rewarded with a look that clearly said, lady, you can't dance. Though, in all fairness, it might have been, lady, you crazy. You real crazy.
I know when we move to a new house, there will be housebreaking incidents. But I am almost prepared to declare mission accomplished with respect to housebreaking. Almost. Now, when he wakes up at an ungodly hour of the night or day, he will just go back to sleep after we let him out. This is a massive improvement on the whining/barking/whimpering/whatever that sound is he makes that sounds like we are killing him.
So whenever he does something bad, I just have to remind myself how far he has come, and that he is still just a puppy. He looks at me after wards, his favorite excuse written all over his face: wasn't me.
See? Completely what he's saying.
Hey, I prefer a bad excuse to no news. (Lonestar)