I think I need to make a shirt with those words and wear it - you know, at events, in the office.
We had our gala dinner Tuesday (and I am obviously old because I'm still tired, hence the lack of blogging) and I kid you not, that day at 3:30 pm I get an email:
"RK, what is the dress code for dinner?"
I'm heading out the door in FIVE MINUTES to go start setting up at the hotel. I AM NOT YOUR MOMMY!
I AM NOT YOUR MOMMY!
What I am, apparently, is the provider of strawberries for the resident squirrels. I had no idea that they enjoyed fruit. Little bites are appearing in the berries as soon as they ripen.
Apparently I am also the resident safety officer. Reading before bed last night, we heard a big crash...then Vasil scurried off somewhere.
Mr. RK later discovered that Vasil was attempting to get up into the guest bedroom closet - or rather, onto the top shelf - and didn't quite make it, falling into a box of Legos.
Yes, Legos. Mr. RK said I could tell you that he is secure enough to own up to Legos.
I am going to sound like a horrible person but I find it easier to deal with wildlife and tamed wildlife than people these days. No matter how easy we try to make it for people to get services, for instance, some shitheads want everything done for them. However...
These are interesting times. We had an appointment a couple of weeks ago for someone who needed to sign up for Medicaid. His mom came with him and although her son was the one with the diagnosis, this woman was just this side of bonkers. Or maybe just bonkers. She was getting so self-righteously worked up about something, and I thought I was going to have to ask her to leave - and then she spied the candy dish on our conference table.
Then she said, "You know? If I had known I was going to have to wait, I would have brought my ukelele."
And yes, I know, these are terribly politically incorrect, but I take happy pills myself, so I know crazy when I see it.