I mean crawling down my arm.
I mean exploring my lap.
Nope back to the shoulder.
The Cowgirl thinks I should bond with vermin.
Truth be told- I'm bonded. I think their nails are too sharp, but still- bonded.
Anyway, the Artist is sick in bed. Miserable, fever-that-hit-out-of-nowhere sick.
So I took my dudettes to Panera for dinner and on the way home we got stuck at a train crossing.
I mean stuck. We were just one little bulb in a string of Christmas lights winding down the dark highway from frustrated cars.
Finally I gave up and decided I would rather drive five miles out of my way than sit and stare at the same patch of pavement for another ten minutes.
I took the country highway into the night, past farms and roads I've never explored and the sunset faded to nothing but streaks of light gray in the black sky and the stars started coming out and I missed our exit because I was telling the girls how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful place.
Well that, and the fact that there are no STREET LIGHTS on country roads so I never had a chance of finding our exit anyway.
Too long story much shorter- it took us twenty minutes to get home, when we were only two miles from our house, but I can't imagine doing anything better with that time than