He's really a gentle beast...

This is what happens when you run 'really fast' into another store while 36 eggs lay "hidden" underneath the pillow your dog is sitting on.

When I found the guilty party, he was cradling an egg in his mouth. Just sitting there, looking around, holding the fragile egg in his massive mountainous canines... undisturbed. Miraculously, no eggs were harmed or broken. Except, on final tally, one whole egg was missing...

For the record, I giggled uncontrollably.

Husbands Best. Day. Ever.

I heard a cry come from our the back bathroom the other day, so I quickly ran back to see what was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

Husband just needed to show me the happiest invention he'd ever seen AND demonstrate how it works.

\

Best. Day. Ever.

Unicorns... and husbands.

I found this picture as my desktop today.

When I asked husband why he chose a unicorn, he said, 

"It was the first thing that came to my mind."

Not sure what that's saying for Husband, but sure smells like revenge to me...

He is now protesting me posting this by sleeping with his head at the foot of the bed.

If You Break It....

I just wanted to send this info into the Universe and see what comes back:


I ate five Chocolate Chunk Cookies today.
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But on a serious note, Husband broke his toe.

I'm sure there's a way to rotate the photo, but I have a fault for apathy.

It's the left pinky toe, if you can't tell. Spiral fracture, clean break. Not a pretty night. (This happened last week, btw. I'm blogging early on it.)

Die Thin Mints! DIE!

I know.... I KNOW.

I'm not a very good blogger.

Got it.

I never promised otherwise.

Remember when you were a kid, and you'd go to mall? In the mall was a tall, skinny little booth with drapes that you'd step inside and take pictures with your bestie? It would print out five minutes later and you'd each take a strip?

I don't know why all of these are question marked?

Anyway, that's what I did with the boys. Only we weren't in a mall. Or a booth. We were in a car. Outside of Wal-Mart, where we finished off a box of Samoas in five minutes. Just kidding. We were leaving the dog park, just minutes away from getting said Samoa's. Either way...

Curse those girl scouts.

 Do you know how hard it is to take a good picture of a dog AND Husband? It didn't matter in the end.

I couldn't get either of them to take this seriously.

Here We Go Again..

Husband is so lucky he has a nurse for a wife.

For those of you who thought my sonic-ice-with-3-cherries post looked like a festering wound, I am here to prove you wrong today.

THIS is a festering wound.

It is also an arm which is 3 days post poison ivy/oak/sumac exposure.

And this is 4 days. I'm disappointed in my timeline. The bee sting was so much more dramatic.

Don't worry. I assessed for early signs of compartment syndrome (despite husband making fun of my questions) and convinced him to go to sick call this morning after formation. The doctor validated me by asking the same questions I did (for compartment syndrome- who's laughing now?!) His right arm is 1.5 inches larger than his left. Sweet.

He got IV solumedrol and was the freak of the clinic.

It's a good day to be him.

This Post Is A Crime...

You know how California is known for Hollywood?

New York for Times Square.

Colorado for Weed.

Idaho for Potatoes. (Yeah, while I'm on it, why is Idaho the 'Gem State'?)

Fayetteville for Crime.

I first became concerned when, our first day here in North Carolina, our bank warned us renters insurance up to $10,000 was 'basically required' in Fayetteville. 

Kind of like water.

A lady at church warned me to burn all my documents and watch my wifi if I value my identity.

A woman at the Sheriffs office told me that security systems installed in the houses were considered 'standard' but screens on the window were classified under 'upgraded.'

My neighbor, John, said I shouldn't worry. People are only shot around this neighborhood if there's a reason for it.

So I'm sure I put my neighbors at rest when I went around the neighborhood with my rather vicious dog to ask what kind of security systems they had. There's nothing creepy about that.

"Hi, my name is Katie. My husband and I just moved in. I'm curious how much security you have going on around here. Are those cameras? Any blind spots? What's your schedule like? Are you home much? Cute dog, is he nice? Does he bite? Does he bark when people walk up? Have you ever caught anyone? What did they do wrong?" 

Creeper.

Just kidding. Actually, it turns out my neighbors are quite strange. But nice. One of them explained, in a very deep, masculine, masochistic way, that every now and then he "goes on patrol around the backyard" and shoots off his .45 just so people know not to mess with him. (Where he shoots it, I didn't ask.) Then there was a kind black man who admitted that the sole purpose of one of four camera's is to check and make sure his son is doing his homework after school.

I end the day now with a pointless blog post.

And no pictures.