I tried hard to convince myself to catch a plane to LA this morning, and call in sick tomorrow. Stupid $$, I just can't spend 1000 of you, not even to see Chris.
Hair, hair, everywhere. Thanks, Deafbusta.
I said, "Well, what's your name, anyway?" and he said, "Mal." I said, "What?" and he said, "Mal, Mal." Okay, then! I tried for all kinds of artsy clever names like Cholla or Manifesto or Rampant, or at least Jayne or something like that, but he said Mal, so there you have it. *shrugs*
First thing he did out of the carry case is to pounce on one of the rubber and feather toys I got and wring its neck and carry its limp body into the laundry room. Then he scratched his nails on every piece of furniture I own until I stopped yelping, and we agreed he could have the couch and the chair, because I don't like them anyway. Then he made me lie on the floor so he could act like a loaf on my stomach for a while and shove hair up my nose, and now he's asleep on the bed.
Terrified of me, the poor wee thingy.
Here is my Christmas wish list:
-one of these
Thank you, Santa Claus! Love, Mary xoxoxo