Happy Valentine's Day!Addendum
Warning: not for the easily offended
So unlike some of my other bloggin' buddies, I didn't celebrate Valentine's Day in high style. No special dinners, no flowers, no chocolates (unless you count the small pack of Godiva chocolate-covered strawberries I indulgently bought for myself). Nope. Instead, James & I spent time together at the vet's with Darth. Our dear Darthy has had more than his fair share of hairballs to begin with, but when he threw up biley liquid, had excess teary goop, and seemed lethargic, I booked an appointment. ("Poor little bunny.") The vet, a pleasant young women with a t-shirt that drew attention to her cleavage, gave our Darthy Boy the once-over. She took his temperature, determined he wasn't running a fever, and offered that she could keep him overnight at the hospital for observation, and order bloodwork or X-rays; however, she said he might just be struggling with a really big hairball. Given the uncertainty in conjunction with the likely exorbitant fees, we decided to take the Darthmeister home with us and keep an eye on him. (James claimed that for $60, he, too, could have shoved a thermometer up Darth's back end and come to the same conclusion. I reminded him that we don't own a thermometer.)
In other Valentine's Day-related news, I somehow stumbled upon a Women's Health quiz the other day which asks its participants to distinguish between commonplace household objects and, um, shall we say "adult" toys. For answering 10 out of 12 questions correctly, I garnered the dubious distinction of being a "certified sexpert." I mentioned the quiz to James, who has quite the competitive streak. He had to take the quiz a second time to beat my score (she writes with a hint of smugness).
Warning: not for the easily offended
So unlike some of my other bloggin' buddies, I didn't celebrate Valentine's Day in high style. No special dinners, no flowers, no chocolates (unless you count the small pack of Godiva chocolate-covered strawberries I indulgently bought for myself). Nope. Instead, James & I spent time together at the vet's with Darth. Our dear Darthy has had more than his fair share of hairballs to begin with, but when he threw up biley liquid, had excess teary goop, and seemed lethargic, I booked an appointment. ("Poor little bunny.") The vet, a pleasant young women with a t-shirt that drew attention to her cleavage, gave our Darthy Boy the once-over. She took his temperature, determined he wasn't running a fever, and offered that she could keep him overnight at the hospital for observation, and order bloodwork or X-rays; however, she said he might just be struggling with a really big hairball. Given the uncertainty in conjunction with the likely exorbitant fees, we decided to take the Darthmeister home with us and keep an eye on him. (James claimed that for $60, he, too, could have shoved a thermometer up Darth's back end and come to the same conclusion. I reminded him that we don't own a thermometer.)
In other Valentine's Day-related news, I somehow stumbled upon a Women's Health quiz the other day which asks its participants to distinguish between commonplace household objects and, um, shall we say "adult" toys. For answering 10 out of 12 questions correctly, I garnered the dubious distinction of being a "certified sexpert." I mentioned the quiz to James, who has quite the competitive streak. He had to take the quiz a second time to beat my score (she writes with a hint of smugness).
How very cute! D M D
ReplyDeleteHow lovely! Always thought you two made a "cute" couple. Happy V.Day to you both - we love you;)C&D
ReplyDeleteThanks! So...when are you coming to visit? :)
ReplyDelete