Tabby informed me that she endured twelve-hour monsoon after she arrived in Hawaii.
Well, isn’t that a fine howdy do? She really ought never leave Boulder again. I’m not going to make her vacation worse by blogging incessantly about what an asshole her little dog is. That would be mean.
Actually, Chicky and I are getting along just fine. It’s kind of nice having another minuscule animal around because the kids are already fighting over who gets to play/sleep/sit/feed/cuddle/carry the kitten everywhere.
Chick is earning his keep. I’m also kind of enjoying having a temporary accessory pet. Now I know what it feels like to be Paris Hilton, toting a tiny animal around with me everywhere I go.
She also told me (as was confirmed by the local news) that snow is coming. I’m gonna be all smart about it and avoid my yearly freak-out, AKA Snowcrastination at the first sign of snow, which always comes very early. Just early enough to ruin the fall colors.
Urban Dictionary defines Snowcrastination as: “Not doing your homework or work because you think its going to snow during the night leading to the closure of school/business.”
But for me it means putting off digging out the warm weather clothes and having to send my kids to school in three layers of pants and insisting they walk in my tracks because their snow boots don’t fit anymore.
It also means being super mean and yelling at them when they jump in the snow because they don’t have waterproof clothes. And worst of all it means going to Target and buying all new stuff when I just know that somewhere in my closets or Lonny’s pile is the perfect pair of snow pants and boots. Just waiting there. For free.
Time to cut the crap.
I dug into the piles and found their boots, pulled out jackets that fit, long sleeved shirts and sweatshirts and am feeling pretty cute. I am still looking for snow pants, though. I sorted out the clothes that no longer fit, too.
Okay Boulder. I’m ready for the snow. Bring it.