Ollie Discovers the Mommy Belly-Shelf, Makes Full Use Thereof

THE SOFA, Cincinnati–In a break-through event late last night, Oliver Twist discovered and used the Mommy Belly-Shelf for himself as an excellent place to rest, relax and receive adoration.  Mr. Twist has in the past had good opportunity to observe Ms. Self-Appointed-Dictator-For-Life Shadow utilizing the Mommy Belly-Shelf but had not, to that point, tried it himself.

After having had injury in the form of being subjected to vaccinations at the vet in the morning coupled with the insult of being sequestered alone in a room for most of the day due to the arrival of his canine cousins, that wacky pair Harley and Jean-Luk, Mr. Twist found freedom and relief in the quiet of the night after said canines were relegated to the guest room with their mamma, Ms. Burnison of Charleston, S.C., for a night of repose.  Mr. Twist was given his freedom, which he took rather quietly and thoughtfully, and, in the course of the night decided that, due to the impositions placed on him throughout the rather traumatic day, he would utilize the Mommy Belly-Shelf to gain the attention, cuddling and general worship that he had not received during the day but which are, in fact, his perceived and just due.

Mr. Twist found the Mommy Belly-Shelf to be just to his liking and tried it twice more throughout the course of the night.  He was quoted as saying that even though it took him nine months to actually figure out the use of the Belly-Shelf, it was quite comfortable and exactly cat-sized ergo it was created just for him and he intended to use it as frequently as he felt like it, which might be frequently and then again, might not.

The Mommy part of the Mommy Belly-Shelf commented that her sweety golden boy is so cute and soft and fluffy that she didn’t mind being rudely awakened three times during the night to give pets to his little softy head.  Nothing of further sense could be interpreted from The Mommy’s comments and even these remarks may cause a little wonder and doubt about the alledged sanity of The Mommy.

Spokespersons for Ms. Self-Appointed-Dictator-For-Life and Fun-Police Shadow have released a statement saying that the aforementioned Ms. Shadow may be required to pursue legal means to deal with this infringement upon her property.

 Baby Miles was unavailable for comment at the time of the writing of this article.

Your pets

are not as cute to other people as they are to you.  Especially when they are wet and jump up on sofas.  Especially when they get the run of the host’s house and the host’s pets have to be cloistered because of it.

 It’s not so cute. 

Just a little jokey-jokey

(My friend forwarded me this one) 

WHY MEN ARE NEVER DEPRESSED Men Are Just Happier People–  Their last name stays put.  The garage is all theirs.  Wedding plans take care of themselves.  Chocolate is just another snack.  They can be President.  (Hey! Hi! Maybe this one will be changing!)They can never be pregnant.  They can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.  They can wear NO shirt to a water park.  Car mechanics tell them the truth.  The world is their urinal.  They never have to drive to another gas station restroom because this one is just too icky.  They don’t have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.  Same work, more pay.  Wrinkles add character.  Wedding dress $5000; tux rental-$100.
People never stare at their chest when you’re talking to them. 
The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.  New shoes don’t cut, blister, or mangle their feet.  One mood all the time.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. 
They know stuff about tanks.  A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.  They can open all their own jars.  They get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.  If someone forgets to invite them, he or she can still be their friend.
Their underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. 
Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.  They almost never have strap problems in public.  They are unable to see wrinkles in their clothes.  Everything on their face stays its original color.  The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.  They only have to shave their face and neck.
They can play with toys all their life. 
Their belly usually hides their big hips.  One wallet and one pair of shoes — one color for all seasons. They can wear shorts no matter how their legs look.  They can ‘do’ their nails with a pocket knife.  They have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.
They can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.
No wonder men are happier.

Full moon

So I was talking to my mom and she said as how the full moon seems to affect L&D rates and looking online I found some articles saying that L&D units add more staff around full moons.  Of course, other articles said it was a bunch of hooey but one doctor’s post I ran across said that she had seen more effects from low pressure fronts than the full moon. 

Here’s the thing:  Wednesday is a full moon AND there is going to be a low pressure front coming through so what say Baby comes Wed or Thurs? 

Well, it will be interesting to see if he does. After all, it’s only a day or two before his EDD.

September in Cincinnati

Ah, late September. 

That time of year of leaves starting to think about turning, of pumpkins and chrysanthemums, of the noises of Saturday afternoon JV football games that waft in the air from the middle school a few blocks away. 

That wonderful time of year when the harvest comes in and the grass begins to have that older, more mature look to it and the Halloween superstores begin their big sales push.

That glorious time of year when the temperatures are, you know, in the 90s and the melodious hum of your neighbor’s air conditioning running is eventually drowned out by the gentle purr of your own air conditioning albeit later on in the day since you open your windows during the morning to get at least SOME of the cooler morning air in and your garden is gasping, gasping, because it hasn’t REALLY rained since May but you refuse to water it anymore because IT’S the FREAKING END OF SEPTEMBER, PEOPLE, and it should not be in the 90s in SEPTEMBER and you should not have to WATER YOUR GARDEN in SEPTEMBER!

Stupid September.  In Cincinnati.

Spelling conventions

Lord knows English is an amalgam of a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants spelling system that seems designed, at first blush, to merely cause excessive trauma and hair loss among those trying to memorize spelling words such as elementary school students, second language learners, and American university students.

This article talks about the loss of hyphenation in the most recent version of the OED (yay! OED! How I love and long for it!).  It cites such words as:

hobby horse, ice cream, pin money, pot belly, bumblebee, chickpea, and crybaby, among others.

The blame for the loss of our horizontal friend is put on the shoulders of a public who is unaware and unsure of the use of hyphenation as well as the multi-medic realms such as the Internet that have caused a greater informality in the use of conventional spelling.  To which I say: balderdash, or, balder-dash, or even just balder -. 

To blame the use of such absurdities as C U, or LOL or brb on the Internet is appropriate as is partial blame for the egregious lack of ability to string together coherent sentences to form one well-written whole (although I also blame the educational system and the inherent laziness of people altogether for that) and please do not even get me started on the apparent virulent strain of the random comma or apostrophe that has appeared in recent times.  But, as far back as I can remember, back to the days of my intrepid youth and the memorization of spelling words, I do not ever, EVER recall seeing bumble-bee or ice-cream as a hyphenated word. Do you?  I know I have seen words such as every-day in books from the turn of the 20th century and I have no reason to doubt the OED knows of what it speaks when it says that these words were once hyphenated but since I existed long before the age of the Internet or text messaging, it seems a bit nonsensical to blame those particular losses on the information era.

Oh-well. What-do-I-know?

False Alarm

For a little while this morning I thought that maybe WestSon might be born on ROB’S BIRTHDAY!!  (Hi! Rob!  Happy birthday!  Yaaaay! For ROB!)

But actually it was a false alarm so Rob gets to keep his birthday to himself.

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