There’s a New Sheriff in Town

Me every morning:  I am going to eat healthy and make good choices!

Me every night before bed:  Yum! Ice cream!  I am ok with being a bit chubby.

Let’s talk about the cute puppy, Charlie.  The girl puppy with the boy name.

She is crazy.  And this is how she likes to sleep.

She has a chewing problem.  She likes attention, so she runs along and grabs things and tries to play keep away with the humans.  The biggest problem is that she doesn’t usually do this in the presence of a human.  So, therefore, she has destroyed many things, like:

Two different vacuum cords

MANY cell phone chargers

Two Chrome book chargers

HD’s glasses on multiple occasions

Stuffed animals

Socks

Carpet

My wireless ear buds (!)

And, friends, she even chewed Ophelia.  Kate’s stuffed elephant from boyfriend, Auggie.

This was no bueno, Friends.

Anyways.  She found HD’s drone charger and was chewing on it and it literally exploded in the house.  Kate and I were the only ones home and smoke started spewing out of the thing.  We were screaming, naturally, and the house filled with smoke and the smoke alarms went off.

It was of comfort to know they worked so efficiently.

I had to throw it outside as it was still smoking.  It burned the carpet.  It was unfortunate.

Also.  Do you remember me telling you one of Mama’s four kittens died?  Well, I wasn’t sneaky enough in my disposal of the kitten.   Charlie has found it and keeps dropping it around the house.  But when I try to get it, she moves it again.  I think it is back outside, but I am really not sure.  Creepy.

I have to tell you something David did.  You might not like him very much after I tell you this story.

He did something very rude.

He killed Waylon the bull this morning.

I know.  I know.  I have been mad at him all day.  I was also trying to avoid looking out all windows this morning because I didn’t want to see any of the action go down.  HD went and got the scoop from David and told me way too much detail about the death than I wanted to know.

I didn’t see or talk to David until a few hours after the MURDER.

Me:  So, did you hurt Waylon’s feelings?

David:  What?

Me:  Did you hurt his feelings?

David:  I don’t now.

Me:  Are the cows upset?

David:  They don’t seem to care.

Me:  I bet they do.  You killed their husband.

David:  He wasn’t their “husband.”  I think we need to talk about raising cows and life.

Me:  Yes, he was.  And he was a nice fellow who never did anything wrong to you.  I need to just not like the cows.

David:  I am going to buy another bull right now.  And you won’t even be able to tell the difference between him and Waylon.

Me:  Well, what do I even name the new bull?  Waylon was a great name.

David:  Name him “Ep.”  Ep is the name of the sheriff off The Walton’s. You know.  Like “there’s a new sheriff in town?”

So.  David is out bull shopping.  And I am still mad at him.

Oh.  And it gets worse.

Waylon is coming home to us packaged as ground hamburger and I shall be expected to cook him.

Rude.

Oh a much happier note, look what I came across when I was watering some plants today:

A mother hen hatched 8 little chicks all by herself!

It made me feel better about Waylon.  A little.

And then there’s this guy:

The sole survivor of The Great PigVenture of 2020.  You know.  When we bought and resold 350 weaner pigs?  By choice?

I decided to name it.  Babe.  Still don’t know if it is a boy Babe or a girl Babe.  Don’t know.  Don’t care.  Maybe I will care later.  But I am impressed that it is still alive.

Good.  Job.  Babe.

We made yet another decision regarding the school year.  We are going to put the boys into a Christian school.  The school is very close to my new school and isn’t “planning” on doing any remote learning at this time.

The boys are not happy about this situation at all.

I had to start their applications.  Part of the application process has a section where they want the students to answer some questions.

Me:  Ok.  First question.  Why do you want to go to this school?

HD:  Tell them my parents put a gun to my head and are forcing me to.

Stand down, Readers!  No firearms were used in the new school decision.

There was, however, a firearm used this morning in the Waylon decision.

Rude.

Me:  Ok.  Second question.  Who is Jesus Christ to you?

HD (mumbling):  He is Jesus.

Me:  Anything else?

HD:  He was a man.

LD can sense that I am feeling over it, so he decides to take the higher road.

LD:  He is the Lord of the Heavens and the Earth and he will save us all from death!

Me:  Winner!

Just kidding.  I didn’t say that.  Or did I?

Next, I had to break it to the dudes that their new school would be requiring uniforms.

Yay!

And then I got to take them shopping at Old Navy for the aforementioned uniforms.

Double yay!

HD is just being a pill and a half.  He is making rude comments left and right, so I have to start fining him and he racked up a couple dollars in “rudeness fines.”

Rudeness fines.  It is a thing I made up.  Feel free to steal it.  I am obviously rearing two fine young gentlemen, so I can see how you would want to use my tricks.

LD, once again, was taking the higher road.  And I greatly appreciated him for it.  He was 100% not thrilled about the uniform situation, but he cooperated and even tried stuff on.

And when LD would show me the duds, HD would mock him.

Yes.  MOCK HIM.

Me:  That will be $5 in rudeness fines!

LD is bigger than HD.  I was trying to get HD to try on some shorts but he refused.  So, I was also being mature.

Me:  Fine.  But don’t get mad at me if all the shorts are too big and they fall off of you when you are running around!

HD:  Don’t care.

I didn’t really realize that there were multiple steps to this application process at the Christian School.

And I was informed that we have to have a “Family Interview.”

 

I am sure that will go over swimmingly.

And, yes.  I feel for the boys, I really do.  I didn’t want to leave my job and I know they didn’t want to leave their school, but we just couldn’t have them at home alone in charge of their education for three days a week.  It would just not work out, you know?

Stupid Coronavirus.

Alright.  Here’s a cute, sleeping kitten.

I start my new job tomorrow!