I just spent nearly 30 seconds trying to think of a word that rhymes with Tuesday. When I didn’t feel like wasting any more of my time (It’s worth over twenty bucks an hour at times! Other times? It’s worth absolutely nothing! You’ll never hear me complain!), I typed a search into the Internet. I was told that Ghandi rhymes with Tuesday. I’m no poet/songwriter/seamstress/cook/etc., but I DO know that pairing up Tuesday and Ghandi is a stretch. Blues day. Goons day. You stay. Anyway.
This Easter was the worst Easter I’ve ever had. Seriously. Ever. It had nothing to do with lack of eggs or candy or fellowship or amazing food, because we had all of that. It had everything to do with this little puppy and how we got her on Friday but had to take her back on Monday, and who knew my heart could bust up SO MUCH after spending less than 72 hours with a muffin-footed hound?
I won’t talk about the reasons why we had to take her back, because it tears me up and I don’t need additional help in the tearing up department. I’ll just say this: She’s an awesome dog, and is at the Maryland Heights Humane Society in St. Louis. (They call her Candy. We called her Beezus.) Go adopt her. She’s a super-quick learner and sleeps through the night without whining! She’s great with cats AND with kids. She’ll even take a nap on you if she feels the urge.
Let’s change the subject. In about an hour I have a doctor appointment during which we’ll be talking about cutting something weird off of my hip. (I’m purposefully going to leave you hanging, because the only thing I can think of that rhymes with Cellulitis is Norman Fell? You bite us!) I’m hoping we can get through the appointment without me having to remove my pants. In other words, Typical Tuesday for Angela Pudding. (Yes. Typical Ghandi.)
For the first time in a long time, I’m going to not allow comments on a post. This post. First off? Because of Beezus and how her leaving has made me more than sort of sad. Secondly? Because I don’t want to hear what else might rhyme with Tuesday. Or Cellulitis. Enjoy your Ghandi. (Until you fight us.)
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