It's better in a hellhole
You know where you stand in a hellhole
Folks lend a hand in a hellhole
Girl get me back to my hellhole
---David St. Hubbins & Nigel Tufnel
Sometimes, the level of decrepitude with which I am surrounded is mindboggling.
How did this happen? I really wish I still had a live-in Daddy to take care of all this stuff so I could just knit and watch futbol all day. (Serie A has midweek fixtures today and tomorrow. Juve versus Samp. Yikes.) But I don't. I am required to be a grownup, and so I am.
In this time of turmoil, The Boys are willing to have a little more together time than previously.
Look! They're sharing! Aww. There has also been some learning:
Wise Kirby, figuring out after 3 1/2 years that sometimes it's a waste of dogtime to follow Dirtbunny all the way down to the basement if she's only going to be down there for a few seconds. So he waits, on yellow alert, at the top of the stairs for her to come back. If she takes "too long" according to his internal dogtime reckoning, he whines, then he comes down anyway.
No learning going on here:
Always, ALWAYS checking for food, even though he's not getting any.
Which one is the cutest? Which one is the good-est? Which one is the nicest? I can't decide either.
1 comment:
Cuter? Nicer? Gooder? It's like choosing between two masterpieces as the "better" one. I think I'll have both, thank you very much.
Re decrepitude, contractors will gladly help you replace the crumbling bits, although if you assent too quickly they'll give you the sales job anyway, as if they're contractually obligated to.
Post a Comment