Winter is coming. I’m so freezing I can’t even stand myself.
All I want to do is wear pajamas and eat snickerdoodles–but it’s not meant to be because 1) Merrick has ebola or whatever disease it is that kids get to make them sound like 60-year-old smokers. 2) Darcy got skunked last night for like the 7000th time in her stupid life and I’m going to have to bathe her at some point because sleeping on the garage floor is not doing well for her old aching bones. 3) Soccer games in the morning, and
4) My first 5K in over 10 years tomorrow afternoon.
When the temperature is guaranteed to reach a whopping 49 degrees. When the wind will come sweeping down the plain at 25 miles per hour. Do I think it’s cold now, sitting here rocking a stately mom-sweater in my toasty house, waiting for my homemade chicken soup to finish cooking?
Yes I do.
So tomorrow, when me and Caleb and our friends are out in the drizzly cold running for our lives from zombies, think of us.
And know that it will only be a matter of time before we ourselves get down with the sickness.
And I know I only mentioned it in passing, but my dog–for real? How many times do you need to get sprayed by a skunk before you realize that black-and-white animal is not going to make you smell like roses? Straight from Satan himself, that creature. Now what? It’s cold, and I can’t very well leave my dog outside. But I certainly can’t let her inside–she’ll stink the place up and we’ll be locked indoors all weekend with that torturous smell! Arg! My dumb dog!
That is all.