tonight I met Optimus Prime

And his little brother exclaimed 

"HAPPY-HALLO-TWIKT-O-TWEET!!"

[after he summoned me to the door by gently knocking and then using the "come here" finger signal to me]

Which was the cutest thing ever.  Also he was dressed as Bumblebee from Transformers.  AND he had a lion hat on.  Which was awesome.  

Here is the only sad and blurry picture I have of my Halloween costume this year.

Basically there was a costume contest at work and I'm fiercely competitive when prizes are involved.  So we didn't win, but we each got 5$ gift cards to fareway.  Worth it.  And one of my kiddos told me I was cute.  Then I took his stitches out.  

I'm usually pretty anti dairy

But Yoplait Frozen Yogurt is pretty much the best thing ever.  

Two words.

Strawberry.  Banana.

happiness is a squeaky toy

Today the guy at the vet when we went and picked Ladybug up from being boarded informed us that she should not have been adopted out by the humane society.  She is "too dog aggressive" and "dog aggressive pit bulls aren't supposed to be adopted out." 

I was mad.  Yes, cartoon-voice-guy, I know she's dog aggressive.  I've been dragged across the street into oncoming traffic because of it.  However, WE'RE WORKING ON IT!  If I had a dog aggressive Chihuahua, you wouldn't say anything.  If my poodle was biting at other dog's ankles, no one would say anything except for that poodles are ugly and not the nicest to pet.  

I didn't say any of those things.  I did my favorite thing to do in the event that I don't want to talk to someone which is look at my phone and give noncommittal grunts.  We took our crazy dog and left.  And later in the afternoon my vicious pitbull and I had a nap together on the couch.  Her head rested on my neck so that when we woke up she licked my chin and then squirmed around because she was happy with herself.  My horrible beast also paid no attention to the neighbor dog as he barked his head off at her.  Progress.  

Also, the best way to make a pitbull wag her tail consistently for 15 minutes is have her lick out the peanut butter jar.  Pure joy.

the magic that is target

Today I wandered through target for an hour.  I left work early and "needed" some things to prepare for the weekend.  And I did really NEED a stocking hat for the ISU game this weekend because today the temperature took a drastic nose dive dropping from 68 to 44 in about an hour.  Rude.  I digress, target.  It's a mecca for the distracted shopper.  Which Justin will adamantly agree that I am.  I wandered to and fro, hither and thither.

Am I a bathrobe person?  Maybe?  Or would I just wear it at inappropriate times, like, all the time.

How do I convince Justin that I need ALL of the Nate Berkus decoration collection?  Especially this.  And only 40$?  A steal if you ask me.

Does target have the gluten-free brown rice crispies.  No.  (I already knew this, but pretended that I didn't so that I could go to target.)

Will gel eye liner make me look like Audrey Hepburn?  Again, no, not quite.

What is the meaning of life as it relates to target (just kidding) but seriously, I need zebra print towels, right?

After picking out three shirts I needed like I need a hole in my head.  And a hat that I really NEED, then a hat that I NEEDED more.  

 I found it.  

The purchase I knew I had to make.  

I texted Justin "This is real.  Bulldog puppy bookends.  My heart says yes and my brain says yes."

He didn't reply.  I bet he wishes he had now.  I called my friend Ashley, who I knew would support my purchase.  But felt like I needed to give someone a fair chance to tell me no since J wasn't taking his.  Of course Ashley approved with gusto, and I named the bookend[s] Pierre the Pup.  I love him.

Oh.  Justin texted me back.  When the cashier gave me the receipt.  "Mine says no."  Anyways, he didn't know how much he would love Pierre the Pup and now he agrees (probably) that I had to get him.  I love target.

Also, hat (that I NEED) and shirt (that I don't)

Plus a pit bull to admire.  She made her most pathetic faces for me.  They clearly say "why do you put me in the garage when you go to work?"

Also, I made buns. So that's not nothing.

5' 8"

Today.

Oh today.  The things I manage to get in trouble for.  I don't go looking for trouble.  I'm innocent.  Somehow though, the shoes I wore to work were inappropriate.  But really I had to wear those shoes.  Without them my pants would drag upon the floor.  That's not professional.  That's sloppy.  I can hardly be sloppy, can I? 

Seriously?  Seriously.

My shoes?  My boss was worried that I'd slip and fall and file a Workman's Comp claim.

Silly boss.  If I slip and fall, it is my own darn fault.  Now let me revel in how tall I am in 4 inch heels  before the pain kicks in.