I’ve just returned from another late night Walmart shopping trip.
It was unusually busy, I’m sure because Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I know nothing would have pulled me out of my home at 10 p.m. if I hadn’t been in need of some ingredients for life’s most precious goodies: Rice Krispy treats and white chocolate Chex.
And BBs. Because that’s how we celebrate Thanksgiving. We eat chocolate and try to shoot things.
I noticed everyone in the store tonight had a hunted look. They were grasping shopping lists and wandering around with slightly unfocused eyes. I felt their pain; when I got out of the store I experienced sheer panic as I couldn’t remember where I parked – or even which vehicle I drove to the store.
This is the moment I come face to face with the nastiness of sleep deprivation. All you childless people out there reading, let this be a cautionary tale! If you reproduce you’ll likely find yourself out at late hours wearing yoga pants and a spit up stained shirt.
You will wonder what happened to your life, to your spunky dress shoes and neatly pressed clothing. Then you will walk up to your older model, paid off Suburban and dream of a day when the floorboards aren’t covered in crumbs and the seats aren’t filled with child protection devices.
And life will be messy, but good. For real.
Speaking of Suburbans, I’d like to mention Stella. She started makings squealing noises last week so we tried not to drive her anywhere and took her to the brake people on Monday.
A mere $750 later we found out that noise I thought was just dirt in the drums… wasn’t. The rear brakes were metal on metal. Whoops.
So, here I am, sleep deprived, poor, and well-stocked with sugary treats and BBs.
I also have a wicked slash across my midriff. I would take a picture and show it to you but I’m afraid adults would run screaming from the computer while small children would reach out to touch the photo while saying, “Pudge? Pudge?”
(I may be exaggerating here. Just a little.)
Regardless of the potential responses, I’m not showing you a picture of my belly but I can assure you there’s a four inch long slice, complete with real blood. It’s from my rabbit.
I decided to breed our rabbit, Joey, today. She wasn’t feeling very cooperative about the entrance and exit from her home and tried to rip my stomach open with her back claws.
The risks of raising rabbits.
Worst part of it all? I don’t even think she was bred. Our buck, Teddy, did his best but his best included mixing up which end was which.
I’m not a male rabbit, but if I were, I would take more care with my tender parts around a partner with teeth that never stop growing and need opportunities to gnaw. Just sayin’.
That’s the end of my story tonight. Walmart. Brake jobs. Rabbits. Pretty much sums up the top three things of our life right now.
How about you? What are the top three things on your mind tonight?