John and his brother once told me the best story in all the land...I want to tell it to you because I love you ever so much.

When they were very little they went to a private Christian school which was very strict. John's brother went to the bathroom, but the little guy realized that he was too late, the worst had happened---he had pooped in his Spiderman underoos! So like any smart five year old, he took his undies off and he decided to hide them behind the toilet because there were kids milling about the sinks and he didn't want to walk past them to throw the underwear out in the trash. Little man cleaned up as best as he could and then he went back to class, sighing with relief that he had escaped complete and utter embarrassment...

Not exactly.

I'm not sure what this school's motto is, but it seems like it might be "We love to humiliate our students in public" because the offensive underwear were found and instead of just being thrown away, they were placed in a baggie and labelled "Exhibit A". All of the students were called to the auditorium and the teachers explained in horrifying detail what had happened. They raised the baggie of Spidey undies and said, "Does anyone know who these are?" And quickly John raised his hand and yelled, "They're my brother's!" And then total embarrassment ensued. Over the weekend, John and his brother were transferred to public school, imagine that! John claims that the whole school was going to be punished over the infraction while his brother claims that John just surrendered the information with glee. I'm not sure who I believe, but I know which one I married and I'm going to make sure that my dirty laundry is all placed in the proper receptacle. The man's a whistle blower and no one is safe. I call him Deep Throat just so I can see him squirm.

My brother in law can marry anyone he damn well pleases according to me, because the perfect prince just found us a gorgeous ball and claw bathtub that was waaaaaay beyond our bathroom budget...and he's giving it to us for free!!!

So you know what that means??? I might actually have a completed bathroom by this June...which will make it precisely one year from when the demolition started in the first place. Wait, did I tell you that it's the only full bath in the house??

I know what you're thinking and I totally agree, I am a very easy going woman who can shower amongst the wreck and ruin that is my bathroom. I am also fully equipped to blow dry my hair while sitting on the floor, and applying makeup in the half bath downstairs. Luckily, I'm very low maintenance and I rarely do any of the above and most often just run out of the house with my hair half wet, dragging a brush through it while pulling it up into a ponytail.

** John, I'm just poking fun at ya, I really don't care about the bathroom, it'll be done beautifully when it's finished--but it is damn good blog fodder.

John's having a mini existential crisis...I guess turning 29 does that to you (I'm fairly sure why I had one then too). He's just coming to terms that he's not as cool, exciting and as rich as he had dreamed he would be. I think he's just as cool and exciting as ever...plus he gives a mean foot rub. He woke me up to tell me this last night (not in those words...at all) because he couldn't sleep. Then I started babbling because I couldn't sleep because, oh yeah, because he woke my ass up. A few minutes later he thanked me because my stories were "lulling him gently to sleep". I grabbed his balls for that one. But it was too late, the only response was "Zzzzzzzzzz" and a little drool on my shoulder.

On another note...

John's brother casually brought up the fact that he's looking at rings. This could be an interesting turn of events because he and his girlfriend are going to Vegas next week. Could it be a family tradition? All of us frugally hitting up the $39 "I Do special" at the Hollywood Chapel of Love? I have to say, I'm cautious about this one, they seem to be a fiery couple--fighting all the time, breaking up, moving out and then not being able to live without one another. I would never voice these concerns out loud because John's brother's a big boy and what do I have to go on? My longest and best relationship has been with John...all others were simply duds. Oh and that tiny fact that I married John after 6 months and a few breakups of our own. So...perhaps that's a family tradition too???

PS. My birthday is on Monday, feel free to plan what you're going to give me!

Well, vacation is winding quickly to a close. I don't have much to show for it except I probably gained ten pounds--I guess it was fun putting them on, but I'm sure it won't be fun taking them off. Where my break has been pretty quiet and mostly lazy (getting to read books, watch tons of movies and mindless TV) today has been nothing short of insanity and I've only been awake for a half hour.

You see, John and I are watching his brother's dog while he's celebrating NYE in North Carolina with some of his friends. My brother in law should've named this dog Naughty. He's adorable and tiny (and sounds like a little pig when he snorts and walks) but he is 100% bad! Already today he chased my poor dog around with a pillow which he was trying to smother her with. Seriously, I wouldn't believe it myself unless I had seen it. He woke me up by standing on my head and sniffing my ear. Then he puked on me. That typically gets a person out of bed. I have to hand it to him, it's an effective method for getting people to do what you want.

Now Sir Naughty is only 1/2 of the equation. Frankie doesn't like to share. She runs around and gathers up all her toys (my socks) holding about 12 in her mouth so that Naughty can't take them. She also feels the need to protect my lap from being laid in by the other dog. Frankie isn't a lap dog, Naughty is. So instead of a 15 lb dog nestled in my lap, I have a 55 lb dog snoring on me as we speak. Because they (Naughty stealing stuff and Frankie trying to take it all back from him) run around here at a breakneck speed carrying around CDs, empty cigaratte boxes, lighters, candles and/or anything else they can fit within their drooping jowls every fifteen minutes or so my lap turns into napzone and they squirm and struggle to see who's going to get the spot! I have to say that John would fight for my lap too, it's a nice place to be. And just as quickly chaos ensued, I have two dogs spooning on my lap snoring loudly. And you know what they say about sleeping dogs...
...you let them lie.
Because in a few short minutes we're going to be doing this whole routine all over again.

*edit*
Oh dear lord, I want these dogs to sleep for as long as humanly/caninely possible but Naughty needs some kind of Beano and I need some form of gas mask. This is cruel and unusual punishment.