Allergeez

Something blew in over the weekend (I don't know how that's possible since there hasn't been wind in San Antonio since December) and I woke up Monday with that itchy-eyed, stuffy-nosed, overall gross allergy feeling.

The worst thing about having an allergy attack is that it's not technically a true sickness, so you can't take off from work/school in good conscience, but you feel just as awful as if you had bronchitis or a blinding migraine.

And then there's always the debate: Do I take Benadryl and risk falling asleep while drilling a cavity (the bottle says 'do not take if operating heavy machinery'...do you think that includes dental drills?) or do I stuff a bunch of Kleenex inside my mask and hope for the best?

In other awful news, Jeffrey took part 2 of his Step Exam today. The test started at 9 am and he didn't finish until 5 pm, with only a 20 minute break to have a little snack. Oh my goodness! How smart does a person have to be to become a doctor?

(Answer: Very smart. Like my husband.)

It's going to be quite difficult to wash my hair while crossing my fingers for the few weeks until his scores come in--so don't judge me if it starts to get a little Ke$ha around here.

Doggie Daycare

This weekend we "dogsat" for some friends. This basically consisted of us actually trying not to sit on the dogs. Our friends have two little white fluffy dogs that weigh about 4 pounds each. The only dog I've ever owned is Dixie, also known as "The Sixty Pound Beast." We're not really used to having to watch where we sit around her.

Anyway, we adjusted to our weekend with tiny, breakable puppies with the help of these instructions from Caleb...

Lucy is the white one, Maggie is the brownish/gray one. If you mix them up they will never forgive you.

Directions:

-1 scoop of food per day in the evening, 8-9 o'clock usually. If you're late Lucy will remind you and be really annoying. Maggie is sometimes funny about eating, but if you sit on the couch and put her bowl on the floor next to you she usually eats.

-If you want Lucy to come, her command is: "GET OVER HERE"
-We didn't realize we taught her that until it was too late...

-Their vet is Babcock North across the street from the old HEB. 210-690-6030
-We hate them, don't take your animals there.

-They stay in their crate at night and during the day. Just tell them to go to bed, they'll do the rest, except lock the crate (no hands).

-Any other questions? Call Bethany!

[Here he drew a tiny, heart]
Caleb

Jeffrey and I spent a while laughing about this. I remembered one helpful hint from Bethany about the dogs, too. She had told me that if you ever want the dogs to leave an area they're in, just yell "GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!" and they will leave whatever room you're in, regardless of if it's the kitchen, bathroom, or bedroom.

All this valuable/comical information came in handy when Lucy snuck out under a hole in our fence and escaped to the neighbor's backyard. Jeffrey and I stood on the fence slats at 10 pm alternately screaming, "GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!" and "LUCY, GO TO BED!" until she meandered back to our backyard.

Best part of the weekend? Built in fluffy foot warmers!

Number One or Number Two?

I took this picture today in the bathroom at school...
There are only two options of what has happened here:

#1--Someone died in this stall, and the police have cordoned off the scene of the crime.

#2--Someone took a very serious, very disgusting, umm...#2.

What really happened? We may never know. One of life's greatest mysteries, brought to you by Lauren.

It's a Dog Eat Dog World

Actually, in my case, it's a dog eat flip flop world.

We started letting the beast stay out of her crate about a month ago while we ran errands. She usually just sleeps on the couch (which she's not allowed to do when we're home). Yesterday she ate two of my flip flops instead. But instead of eating two of the same flip flop, she ate one flop from each flippin' pair, so I lost two pair of flip flops in one afternoon. (Which begs the question: Does one of my feet taste better than the other?)

Distraught, I left the two unmatched, unmangled flip flops on the floor, wondering if I might try wearing them as a pair. When Jeffrey and I came home from the store today, the beastie had eaten the other two as well.

We put Dixie in a time out and she felt very sorry for what she did (for about 12 seconds). Then she saw a bird outside and had to defend our backyard's honor by running frantically around until the bird left.

I knew we should've gotten a komodo dragon. I'll bet this guy's dragon has never eaten his flip flops. (His kids, yes, but his flip flops, no.)

A Van Down by the River

I'm feeling a bit alone in the world today as my Uncle Gary is in Tanzania climbing Mount Kilimanjaro (true story, I had to use Wikipedia to double-check that Mt Kili is in Africa...many thanks to my World Geography teacher--er...coach...who made us watch Saving Private Ryan and The Patriot repeatedly instead of actually showing us a map) and my parents are in Lima, Peru.

My parents are doing on a mission trip working with an orphanage there. I wasn't worried about them going until my dad called me the day of the trip and said, "Hola!" heavily pronouncing the "H" sound, and then giggling, "I'm practicing my Spanish for the trip!" He has probably offended most of the locals by now and ruined America's reputation with his butchering of their language. (Just kidding, America's reputation has already been ruined...it happened when we let Britney Spears make that awful movie, Crossroads.)Anyway, with all my family spread out over the globe, I'm getting by with a little help from my friends. Yesterday we floated the river. It was a perfect day--slightly overcast so that the four of us who are eggshell white didn't get burned, but still hot enough to enjoy the cool river water.

Here's a picture of our little group...
(And actually, I wrote the last paragraph before I looked at the picture...no offense, guys, but we all pretty much look pale in the picture. I don't want to hear any more jokes about Casper from you.)

We tied all our rafts together at the suggestion of Caleb, who is an actual History teacher (not one of the ones who makes kids watch Saving Private Ryan), and who told us that the best way to stay together is to form a flotilla. He swears this is a real term from the Spanish navy for a formation of ships. At one point the flotilla failed us, when my raft seceded from the union during a trip down one of the chutes and the Lee's raft began to deflate. Then we had a period of reconstruction and recovered, just in time to raise our legs in happiness for a photographer standing on the banks whose photo we stole online to post here.

Afterward, the Gristmill. Umm...delicious! If you like onion rings the size of your face, you should go there. If you don't, well, just keep enjoying your granola bars and sushi for years after we die of coronary artery disease.