Not much has happened here other than me eating my baby’s weight in watermelon.
Okay, so I am packing for our move on Thursday (eek!).
In order for Henry, our kitten, to live with us on base, we have to get him microchipped and registered on base. Yesterday I took him in for his appointment. Let’s just say it was traumatic. He cried the whole way to the vet, we get there and there’s a dozen gigantic dogs that want to eat him. They are out of microchips. The lovely safety feature on our car locked me out after I turned on the a/c before putting him in.
So here I am, my cat, keys, purse and phone locked inside a running car and it’s 95 degrees out with unspeakable humidity. Thankfully I left the windows cracked while I was in the vet’s office (a grand 20 minutes filling out paperwork while my kitten is howling at some half-breed love child which I can only guess is half poodle, half platypus). Still, I left the windows cracked. I already have short, fleshy arms, and since the humidity was 900%, I only had so much time before they ballooned into cantaloupes.
Of course I couldn’t reach the unlock button, so I walk back into the vet’s office sheepishly and ask all the Marines, etc. in there if someone could help me, since I locked my cat in the car (award for terrible pet parent? Meh, at least the A/C was on). One guy with a German Shepherd stood up.
“How big was the crack in your window?”
I spaced my fingers about 2.5 inches apart. He turned to the girl next to him.
“Honey, you have small arms. Go help her.”
So this cute little thing comes outside with me. She got her arm in about as far as I had—about 4 inches short of the lock. I looked at my kitten, who was peering out at me from the holes in his kennel walls.
“Alright, I’ll try it again.” I was engorged with determination. I got my arm in as far as the girl had, about 4 inches short. Then I stuffed my arm in more, feeling like a deranged octopus as my arm squeezed in. I’m sure my eyes bulged out a bit.
Finally I reached the lock. I opened the door with my other hand. Okay. Door is open. And my arm is stuck.
The cute little thing was still standing next to me. I don’t know if she stayed out of guilt or curiosity. Either way, I am pretty sure she grimaced as she watched my feat in absolute horror.
“Could you reach in and roll the window down for me? I’m stuck.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
And thus the tiny little woman saved the day. Or at least saved my arm from either dislocation or amputation.
And that was the “highlight” of my week.
Since my last post, LT and I went to GA for a murder mystery dinner party set in Regency England. So LT and I went all Pride & Prejudice and such. LT was fiiiine and very Mr. Darcy-esque, but I will refrain from putting up a picture of him, to keep him from embarrassment and to keep my female readers from coveting my extremely attractive and fit husband.
I also finally finished my last online class (WOOHOO!), went to a local writer’s club meeting, did some design work for people, etc. etc. LT and I saw A-Team, and we were both thoroughly entertained. Still have to see Karate Kid and Prince of Persia, but we might wait till they come to the discount theater.
So about this whole Toy Story 3 thing. Apparently it’s one of the best reviewed movies of all time. I admit I am pretty excited about it. But Cars 2 is coming out next year and Monsters Inc. 2 is set for 2012. This is just getting slightly ridiculous. To put that into perspective, my son will be 1 when Cars 2 comes out, the same age as my 5 year old brother was when Cars came out. Little Champ will be 2 when Monsters, Inc. 2 comes out, which is the same age my 13 year old brother was when Monsters, Inc. came out (Okay, he was nearly 3).
So Pixar is actually hitting (at least in my case), the next generation with the same characters I grew up with. And of course my curiosity is piqued. They are marketing geniuses. But they are also kind of mean, essentially making millions of dollars off of nostalgia.
Anyway, How’s Little Champ doing?
Well, he’s about 1 2/3 pounds and 14″ long. His eyes are fully developed (though they are still closed tight). His lungs and sense of hearing continue to develop, and he is starting to recognize voices. Of course, our Little Champ seemed to start recognizing LT’s voice a couple of weeks ago, tumbling around and kicking when his daddy started talking. Sure, that might be coincidence, but I’m going to say it’s because he luuuuuuuuvvvs his daddy.
And to embarrass my future son further if he ever reads this blog, I am proud to say that his testicles have begun their descent. That’s my boy!