Monday, January 6, 2014

Snowed In: Strange Behavior Edition

Afternoon Readers,

Well, it's officially January in Kansas, which means the weather here is sucking our will to live. A new blanket of snow was thrown over our dreams of escape, two days ago, and the cabin fever is not so much the log cabin type, as it is the cabin from the boat in the movie Jaws.

Coloring, Leap Pads, TV and letting kids hit you repeatedly over the head with plastic spoons will only keep offspring happy for so long, before everyone resorts to sitting around and staring at each other and growling. With, roughly, three more months of these conditions left to endure, here are some of the behavioral trends I'm timidly noting:

The baby has taken to wrapping himself up in his fuzzy Thomas the Tank Engine blanket and keeling over, mid morning. The subject was poked and declared, "still alive." Husband and I have decided this must be some sort of hibernation coping mechanism.

Sundance continues on her quest to terrify the dog into no longer wanting live here. She loves him with all her heart, but, sometimes, shows that love by chasing him with a pirate sword.

(Whether he packs up and leaves in the Spring remains to be seen. He'll probably stay simply to rub me the wrong way.)

The trash men usually arrive promptly at 11:30am. Today, they decided to push the bounds of reason and pass our house at 9:30am, prompting Husband to yell something unintelligible, jump off the couch, and charge out the door in his socks. After which, he dragged the trashcan down the driveway and across the street to the truck, thereby sealing the neighbor's suspicions that, yes, the Kellermans are insane.

Butch Cassidy has stayed pretty well behaved. The situation is being closely monitored, as we believe this to be front for something. Talk of trafficking illegal cigars has been thrown around.

The dog is being his same old annoying self, barking at things that aren't there and making the new neighbors wish they'd moved their SUV and Jack Russel to Acapulco instead. (Hence why I reserve an indifference to the fact Sundance is putting him through his own, private Hunger Games.)


Twice this week I've forgotten I have an actual first name, but the discovery I answer to, "The lady that feeds us," has been nothing short of fascinating. We're a true study in the human condition. However, I have been asked to do a TV spot on Wednesday, so, when you see the clip, at least you'll understand why I have crazy eyes and look like a mongoose who's been held in an overturned trash can for three days.

We gotta get a bigger boat.

Until Next Time, Readers!