Musical Monday: It's 3 AM

Here I am up in the night with the puppy again, and I couldn't help but think of this song. I know it isn't a lady running through my head, but it is still 3 AM, or er, since I've already taken him outside and held him while he nibbled on me, it's now 3:24 AM. Close enough to love OAR. He's dozing in the kitchen. Time to post, turn off the lights, and try to sneak back to bed. Happy Monday morning.

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True Story -- Tee Hee

Hey, my young Google Plus friends: This one's for you.

If you're still reading my blog, you may see yourselves. Love you, guys!

Dylan leaped for Tim's pass, but the football sailed over his head and into Mrs. Crowder's rose bushes. As the boys stared at the petals covering their football, Joyce, Tim's little sister chuckled. 

"Now you're in trouble!" She gave a wide grin which stretched all the way to her beautiful eyes.

"Mrs. Crowder will never know," Tim said. "We'll glue the petals back on the buds."

Dylan chuckled. "Tim! That's ridiculous. Didn't Mrs. Lansky teach you anything in APEX class? You can't glue petals back on flowers."

"Watch me," he said while running toward his house.

Dylan didn't mind Tim leaving him with Joyce. After all, she was the cutest girl in Chinese school, and he loved it when Mrs. Lansky had seated them together in APEX class. He grinned at Joyce, and then clambered through the bushes to snatch the football from its rose garden prison. To his left, Dylan spotted a beautiful blossom and picked it for Joyce.

"Here you go." Right as Dylan gave the rose to his girlfriend, Tim came charging back while clutching a bottle of super glue. 

"You have the petals?" He asked.

Dylan pointed to a patch on the ground and watched Tim squeeze tiny droplets onto the end of three petals. The blossoms easily slid into place as if never disturbed. "You were saying?" Tim said. 

"Ingenious." Dylan had to agree, the roses looked okay.

When Tim's back was turned, Joyce superglued three silky red petals to each other and then put a huge glob on the back of the stack.

So now you know why Tim is still holding the petals the first day of seventh grade.

Authors note: Dylan and Joyce are not boyfriend and girlfriend because fifth graders are much too young for that. Plus, Joyce is not the devious type, nor would her smart brother fall for this stunt. I just like to mess with them.  Are we good now?

Survival of the Cutest

After being up from two to three this morning, I've decided that Mowgli would never survive if he weren't so stinkin' cute; however, it could be worse. At two AM, Aleda (the only one posting at the time) writes, "Sick dog in a high-rise....not fun. :-(" Our Mowgs was just feeling playful. 

Yesterday, Judy left for a two week stint as a camp counselor, so we are the official 

"Loco parentiredness." 

The little guy fell asleep under the desk at three, so I shut the kitchen doors and crept back to bed.

At seven, Mitchell charged into the room. "I can't find Mowgli!" He'd fallen asleep on the porch with the doors closed, but puppy breath was missing. Shortly after hopping out of bed, Mitchell spotted him under the couch. See the tiny flap? He was asleep under there. I tried to pose him under the couch for a picture, but Mowgli was more interested in biting my phone.

Oh, no! Here's Mitchell asking where Mowgli is. 

"I thought he was with you," I said. Nope! He's on the porch once again looking so stinkin' cute.

Yep! Cuteness is a safety feature.

Let me leave you with the song that's 

been stuck in my head all week.