My memory is failing me. I guess it is a casualty of getting older, or it could be stupidity. Nevertheless I prefer to blame it on advancing years.
The other day I was making a protein shake. I accidentally overfilled the 'shaker cup' and didn't have room in the cup to adequately shake the mixture. To remedy this I poured half of it into a glass, then screwed the lid back on. I was distracted wiping up the dribbles on the counter, picked up the glass then started shaking it.
Suddenly I was covered with cold chocolate goo. It was in my hair, my eyes, my nose. It was dripping off the ceiling onto my head. Dismayed I wiped my face with a towel.
What just happened?
Instead of picking up the 'shaker cup' with lid...I picked up the glass with the overflow - violently shaking that instead.
Is that old age? Or stupidity? See why I prefer to blame old age?
Keeping with this theme.. I do have a point to this story, eventually. I have two memory cards for my new camera (ironic they are called
MEMORY cards eh?). Lo and behold I found that I had not downloaded a ton of pictures from our trip to Idaho last month.
While sorting through them all I found the fire-hydrant freak-out.
Early one morning at the hotel I let the dogs run in the field next door. Apparently they have plans to further develop this land, obvious from the fire hydrants spaced evenly throughout.
They were happily running and playing in the same field they had been in for two days. Suddenly Brynn and Bonnie screeched to a halt and burst out in a flurry of bark screams. Perhaps the sunlight struck the fire hydrant in a odd manner?
"ALERT ALERT! Dangerous creature ahead!"
"Oh my doG...WHAT IS THAT?"
"MOMMY!"
"Must bark at it or it will ATTACK!" (Notice the hair on Brynn's back - it is raised on her neck and tush)
"MOMMY!"
"Must run at it barking....scare it away!"
"BONNIE YOU ARE TOO CLOSE! COME BACK!"
"Bonnie GET BACK!!"
"Bonnie - get away! IT WILL EAT YOU!"
"Nah, Brynn...it smells good"
"Bonnie GET BACK! GET BACK!"
"Oh MY DOG, Brynn there is ANOTHER ONE, BEHIND US!"
And it started all over again. Finally I was able to get Brynn to sniff it
She didn't like it. But she calmed down.
Mom, throw the ball, kay?
Must be nice to be a dog. You can freak out or do silly things...then forget about it and play.
I wonder if I stuffed a tennis ball in my mouth I would feel better about my future senility?
Where are the tennis balls...