Randomitis

If any of my readers spot Sponge Bob Squarepants, please let him know that I have his leg.  I don't know if he still needs it.  He's a sponge, and he might have already grown a new one. 

Thanksgiving is this week.  I just realized that last week.  For some reason I thought that I had a whole extra week in there.  I blame Daylight Savings.  I plan to blame Daylight Savings for everything that goes wrong for at least the next month.  It's my right as an American, to blame odd things for every calamity that strikes me. 

On Sunday we went into PetSmart because I thought that Zane would like to check out the birds and the reptiles and fish.  Instead, we found a pet adoption day, and puppies! (yes, there were cats there, too, and though I wanted to take them all home with me, I did not.  I may lose my crazy cat lady status)  Zane was very interested in the dogs.  He's been asking for one for some time, but we've been hesitant.  We weren't sure that Zane was ready.  However, at the adoption event, the trainer interviewed Zane very carefully.  She asked him questions about what he would do if the puppy chewed his toys or pooped on his bed.  I did not hear everything, but the trainer was very impressed with my son.  Larry and I discussed it at home, filled out our application, and brought home a little Lab mix puppy.  She(we are in negotiations as to her name) is sleeping in a crate at the moment, because our two cats need time to figure out just what the heck is going on.  Poor Pounce will probably come out from under the bed next year sometime. 

No, my cousins are still not speaking to me. They are still mad about the election, and likely will stay mad until the next election.  I'm just glad that they won't be at the Thanksgiving Day meal.  That would be awkward, and I might have to drink more than my usual two glasses of wine.

Now, I don't want PETA showing up over here, but I would like to know what the rules are for this particular contest.  Who are the judges of such events? Does one have to carve a turkey in record time?  Is there chicken plucking in this event?  Are cleavers involved, or do they allow chainsaws?  Are you supposed to carve your meat to look like Mt Rushmore or a porterhouse?  


Zane may start off sleeping in his own bed, but at some point he ends up in our bed.  We usually don't even wake up when he climbs in bed, and I don't think that Zane is actually awake, either.  I think that eventually this behavior will go away, so we don't make a big deal about it.  Except for the other night, when he barfed in our bed.  We were both sound asleep when there was a loud "Bleargh!"  Larry and I jumped out of bed way faster than I knew we could move.  Larry went to get towels, I grabbed Zane, who hadn't made any other sound because he was still asleep!  What the heck?  How could you sleep through barfing if you're not intoxicated?  Good thing that he sleeps on his side or stomach!  We cleaned up as best as we could in the dark, threw some towels down under Zane, and just went back to bed.   The barfing happened two more times, but Zane didn't sleep through those events.  I guess that it was a good thing that he was in our bed--I don't know if we would have heard him in his room.  Yes, I'm looking at barf in my bed as a good thing.  No, I am not intoxicated.  Just sleep deprived.

I am over at Stacy's today, at Stacy Uncorked, so be sure to check her out!