My first Christmas present was this pair of ginormous pink slippers (?). They are fuzzy inside and out, and Wile E. likes to bite them (while they’re on my feet) so I predict they’ll last about a day or so. Greg would be happy for Wile E. to eat them, because he hates them. That’s fine. I want him to cut his hair, so we’re batting about even.

Here’s me wearing my big pink fuzzies in the kitchen while Wile E. lies in wait for me to drop a tidbit of something on the floor.

I deleted the rant part of my last post. I thought about it, and I didn’t like how I was really letting you-know-who get to me. Perhaps her hating me is a GOOD thing, because it probably means that our values are diametrically opposed, and that’s okay with me. I’ll just chill. I’ll try to not be hateful, because isn’t that where all the bad stuff, like war, starts?

Speaking of, I love this song. THIS one. Not the others where they leave out the “war is over” part.

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