The Title of this post was the title of my mother's morning email to me. It's amazing what a bright, funny woman she is (sans alchohol)...
Sidenote: Talky Pete just went into the bathroom on his cell phone. I think that he thinks we can't hear him with the door closed and the fan on, but that's not at all the case.
Back to mom: She is always complaining that her mother acts just like her mother's mother did. I'm always saying that my mother acts just like her mother does (except grandma isn't a mean old alchy). But, you can see where I'm going with this. At some point, my son could say that I act just like my mother. And I'm actively trying NOT to act like my mother, so it will just be all that much more sad if he says it. And scary for him.
Back to my art class tonight. That's going fine. Having been my high school art teacher, I'm sure Mrs. Jones wouldn't be surprised to find out that I haven't practiced one time this week (I'll do it at lunch), but I won't be telling her. She's a very nice but rather stern woman.
So, last night, on my way home from work, I saw a cat sitting on top of a metal fence post. I pointed it to hubby and kind of laughed until he said, "Boy, they had him bayed, didn't they?" And then it dawned on me: Why WOULD a cat be sitting on top of what must be a very uncomfortable fence post? Hubby informed me that there were two dogs laying in the grass underneath the poor kitty. I promptly pulled over, turned around and went to help the kitty. Anyone watching would have taken me for a loon, but I jumped out of the car and ran screaming and flailing my arms at the dogs. They ran away and poor kitty sat there crying until I helped her get down. Then I looked up and saw the owners of the dogs standing in their yard staring at me. Like I was crazy. No surprise there. I didn't bother to tell them that their mutts were tiny terrorists and should be ashamed. People who raise their dogs to act that way won't listen anyway...
Fifty Years is a long time
15 hours ago