Ok, three weird things last night:
I went to dinner with my sister Amy, my mom and my little brother. Their choice of restaurants’ they picked the local pizza parlor which has a Monday night buffet which attracts many residents from the local dirt stock car races.
Weird thing the First: on the pizza buffet, they had a pizza called the BLT pizza. It was covered in mayonnaise. And it was hot. In case you didn’t catch that: hot mayonnaise. Folks, salmonella is God’s way of saying ‘Mayonnaise should never be warmer than 45 degrees Fahrenheit.’ Because God isn’t on the metric system yet. It’s just like how tornados are God’s way of saying ‘Thou shalt not live in trailer parks.’
Weird thing the Second: I asked my little niece Abigail who my mother was, and she said ‘Uncle Esteban’.
Weird thing the Third: I was trying to get to the pizza buffet and there was a table running parallel to the salad bar. Seated at this table was a man in a very large wheelchair. There was a guy standing at the salad bar, dishing up copious amounts of pickles onto his plate. I figured I’d try to squeeze between him and the wheelchair, assuming that the salad bar guy would squish in to accommodate. He didn’t. I ended up getting one of the wheelchair handles up my butt.
Ok, that last one was not so much weird as it was dorky.
My brother has decided to call the remaining puppy Rocky.
This is very confusing to my niece Abigail, whose betta fish died. And his name is Rocky. He has gone, according to the two-year-old, to live with ‘Jegus’. She’s not entirely certain who ‘Jegus’ is, but she knows that he’s a nice man and you go to live with him only if you get very very very sick.
Thus, I’ve suggested that they name the puppy Rocky II: The Sequel. Jonathon isn’t buying it. Abigail then opined that Rocky was red. And he liked to poop.
I swear, she’s just a little Weetabix in training.
