Is this a conspiracy? You betcha, and the Mumples are here to de-bunk it. Right now.
Nobody told me that 7 year old girls go into laughing and giggling fits over farts and burps. Boys, I already knew, did this. Why didn't anybody warn me that GIRLS do this also?
Fiends.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
The Mumple Mitten
I worked today. 5:45am comes awful early, and even when the day goes quickly, it's still very tiring to deal with Black Friday shoppers, regardless of which side of the retail hell you're on.
But when I got home from work today (still mostly functional) I was still dressed as the Great Pumpkin--L&G opened at 7:30am. That's how deranged Black Friday is.
Anyway, the Toad was flopped on the couch. The Howler was all Christmas Conipption. My Sweetie had begun the Christmasifying of the Mumple Mansion.
Add in Missy, who said, "Can I come to your house and play?"
Then came Blondie, who rang the doorbell and said, "Can I come in and play?"
Urchin came in, and whispered, "Can I come in and play, too?"
Of course, we already have three cats--one black grumpy cat; one sleepy kitten; and one hell-bent-for-leather kitten leaping about the room. And the Great Pumpkin. And the Christmasfying Sweetie.
The doorbell rang, and My Sweetie and I had visions of someone tickling Toad's nose. He'd sneeze and all the little woodland creatures, er, ah, little girls and kittens would be flung out onto the neighborhood lawns, instead of being snuggly warm inside the Mumple Mitten.
But when I got home from work today (still mostly functional) I was still dressed as the Great Pumpkin--L&G opened at 7:30am. That's how deranged Black Friday is.
Anyway, the Toad was flopped on the couch. The Howler was all Christmas Conipption. My Sweetie had begun the Christmasifying of the Mumple Mansion.
Add in Missy, who said, "Can I come to your house and play?"
Then came Blondie, who rang the doorbell and said, "Can I come in and play?"
Urchin came in, and whispered, "Can I come in and play, too?"
Of course, we already have three cats--one black grumpy cat; one sleepy kitten; and one hell-bent-for-leather kitten leaping about the room. And the Great Pumpkin. And the Christmasfying Sweetie.
The doorbell rang, and My Sweetie and I had visions of someone tickling Toad's nose. He'd sneeze and all the little woodland creatures, er, ah, little girls and kittens would be flung out onto the neighborhood lawns, instead of being snuggly warm inside the Mumple Mitten.
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