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So, SOMEONE called the house this morning at 9:00 AM. On a Saturday.
Who. The fuck. Gets up at 9:00 AM on a Saturday? Over productive bastard. No wonder he has his doctorate.
Anyway, that's not the cute part.
What I was getting to was the fact that I normally get up at 8:00 every morning. When I get up, I take the dogs out of the bedroom with me so that the Friedy can sleep. Usually I let the girls outside so they can potty, pour myself a cup of coffee, and then go back to my office to make with the worky stuff. The girls always follow me (because there's nothing to do downstairs unless there is a people there...) and lay around on the floor in my office, chewing up my pencils and discretely trying to steal my socks.
This morning, after I was so rudly awakened, I decided to empty my bladder before attempting to go back to bed until at LEAST noon, so I opened the bedroom door to head for the bathroom. Maggie and Jasmine followed me out of the room because they don't know the difference between Saturday and Tuesday. When I came out of the bathroom, they were both in my office with their pencils looking at me expectantly. "Well, Mom! We're ready to work! What are we doing today?"
I had to shoo them back into the bedroom, and that alone was enough of a clusterfuck to wake me up all the way. Jasmine trotted right into the bedroom, but Maggie stayed in the hall. I opened the door further to show Maggie that she should come in, but while Maggie was coming in, Jasmine went into the hall. After about 4 repeats of this process, I had to go out into the hall and herd them both back into the bedroom. It's a good thing they're cute!
On a happy note, Mr. Wakes-Up-And-Calls-Friends-At-9:00-AM-On-A-Saturday has redeemed himself by volunteering to take the extry time to pick me up on his way to the Inferno tonight. Zig has to work, and he's nervous about little ole me being unattended in a club, so it'll take a worry off his mind to know that his girl is being Squired about by a kindly escort of sufficient size and scariness.
And with that, I should run off and get ready to go out. I don't want to keep my emergency-back-up-date waiting!
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Good things about men in large and scary sizes. I needed one tonight and my date didn't quite suffice, as per usual. It's a good thing I'm scary in my own girly way, otherwise I'd be screwed, although interestingly.
Question: If you piss someone off who has a really huge tattoo but a smaller arm than you, which one of you is in trouble? I suspect it still might be me...
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