My dog is sitting next to me looking out the window. She likes to bark at motorcycles and big trucks. We live down the street from a limestone quarry so she barks about every three minutes when a truck full of rocks rolls by. How can dogs not get tired of hearing themselves bark? Don’t they ever feel like, “this barking is really hurting my ears. I should stop for a while.” No, it seeems. I feel like punching her in the face.
Not really. That would be sad. She’s a very sweet dog. Plus she has a little face so I’d probably miss. Punching something in the face is my way of saying I don’t like something. But it’s very aggressive. And angry. Which is kind of how I’m feeling right now.
I just confirmed our tickets to go to Utah (the kids and I. Mister will be staying home minding the fortress with his giant shotgun.) They have us seated all over the plane. I should call Delta and straighten things out (sidenote: I hate Delta but they have the only nonstop from Austin to Salt Lake, so I am at their mercy. I especially hate their $25 baggage fee. But I hate changing planes even more. So Delta it is.) But part of me wants to sit Jasper down next to a total stranger and had him Jasper’s snacks and toy cars. “If you don’t like it, complain to Delta!” I’ll say as I turn and skip back to my seat.
That would be excellent. And hilarious.
But I still feel like punching something. I hate to say it, but it might be . . . hormonal. I pity the fool who crosses me when I’m like this. Sorry TSA people! Apologizing in advance!
I won’t be taking my computer with me. So I will be blogging very little. I hope you enjoy a little break from me. I’ll see you at the end of the month!