From the doghouse to the bighouse...

Time to update the resume people! I can now cross off “ Be a pet nanny” or “Panny” from my list of Things I want to accomplish before I’m 30. So far I’ve crossed off:
1. Kill a spider by myself
2. Drive a dangerous vehicle
3. Light a grill manually (I have a fear of igniting myself if not the entire house/neighborhood on fire), and
4. Learn every dance move to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

OK, so an actual list is nonexistent, but I really am “Pannying” this week and next. When I agreed to this, I was obviously suffering from Theendisinsightitis at the end of the school year, and therefore would have agreed to ANYTHING being asked of me. I don’t like animals. Never really have. Probably never will. Eventually, I’m sure I’ll cave when I have children of my own begging daily for the stray mutt wandering aimlessly around the neighborhood, but until then, no animals for Ghetto Barbie. No. Thank. You.

Are the pups I’m pannying for cute you ask? Oh certainly. They’re very cute. Check 'em out.


They’re cute when they sit on the couch watching traffic drive by. They’re cute when they go outside together to do their “stuff”. Just like a couple of girls, those two; going to the bathroom together. They’re cute when they reenact scenes from Rocky together. It’s all very cute until bedtime, when they decide that my bed is their bed. Um, no, my cute little four-legged friends. My bed is NOT your bed. However, sleeping with the master is a life that these cute little cousins by adoption have always known. For me, it’s more like Sleeping With the Enemy: The Sequel. There is no Julia Roberts. And their certainly isn’t a beach house. But I digress. This is something I apparently agreed to, therefore, it is with heebie-jeebies that I will share my bed with Heebie and Jeebie. Afterall, I am not doing this so much for them as much as for their beloved owners who have entrusted these precious little canines to me for 2 weeks while they teach and guide young junior-high minds at Camp Shiloh. So, actually, when looking at it that way, I’m doing this for Jesus.

In other news:

I had my highly anticipated court date today at the Lynden City Municipal Court. I told you I would not go down without a fight. To commemorate the occasion, I compiled a list of the top 5 things you should never do/say at a mitigation hearing at municipal court.
1.) Do NOT come to court dressed like Elle Woods from Legally Blonde and expect great things to happen. Life is not a movie people, and the judge was NOT impressed with my pink polyester suit with matching hat and handbag.
2.) If the court room is the size of your garage, do not ask to speak to the judge is his/her chambers. You may end up discussing your case in a broom closet, or worse, outside on the front sidewalk.
3.) When asked to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, do NOT pull a Tom Cruise from A Few Good Men and shout "You can't handle the truth!" for the whole courtroom and town to hear.
4.) Do NOT ask the judge if he/she knows Judge Judy. Apparently she isn't real.
5.) Do NOT under ANY certain terms EVER ask the judge if you can borrow his/her robe so you can get a quick picture for your blog. Judges don't read blogs, and there are no blogs in prison.

Don't take these words lightly, my friends. I had to learn the hard way. Thanks to my plight in court, you don't have to.

Enjoy the rest of your week!