eric and pamie take the day off
I’m stealing a few moments away from “Pam and Eric’s Day Of Fun” to catch up. Eric is taking a nap. I’d sleep too, but yesterday evening I took a nap and I accidentally slept for an hour and a half and was up until five in the morning. I don’t want to make that mistake again as I have work in the morning.
Spent the whole day being a kid.
Had hot dogs and french fries for lunch.
Do you think you could just live off hot dogs? Wouldn’t that be the greatest thing ever?
You lived off hot dogs?
When I was… huh… I don’t know, three? I don’t remember. Apparently I only would eat hot dogs. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Just hot dogs.
And your mother fed these to you?
The doctor told her it was fine. At least I was eating, and I’d grow out of it.
And I grew out of it.
You asked, man.
Killed some time doing early Xmas shopping.
Ohmigod, I totally held in my hands the Bouncing Tigger Doll. I had never done that before. I had only seen them on the television. I pushed it down and he started talking and bouncing and I started squealing and clapping my hands like a five year old. I couldn’t help it… it was the coolest thing. There were bunches of them on the shelves! I just wanted to go around making them all bounce one by one. Eric dragged me away from that aisle.
There were no Ferby’s at the store.
Then we saw Babe: Pig in the City. It’s good. It’s really good. I remember when I first heard they were doing a sequel I was like, “Oh, God, no.” But they don’t ruin everything with just gimmicks and stupid jokes. It’s still good. Not as sad as the original, but there were moments where both Eric and I were tearing up.
(But don’t tell Eric I told you. If he brings it up, he just had to go to the bathroom periodically. There was no crying involved.)
This film seems to be almost too harsh for little kids, and is more geared towards the kids who saw Babe originally and who are now a little older and ready to deal with stronger topics. I can see why it was slapped with a PG rating. Oh, and one of the dogs calls a cat a “Pussy.” I know how much I would mimic my childhood films. I can just see seven year olds throughout the land calling each other “Pussy” and then saying, “I’m just quoting the movie.”
That’s how I got my “Greased Lightning” album taken away from me.
So, now as Eric is taking a nap in the other room (There’s a “That’ll do, Pam” joke in there, but I’ll just let you figure it out.), Taylor is rolling around the Christmas tree. I put up our measly little three foot fake tree the other day. I think it’s kind of cute, but it’s not a big deal. It’s got some lights, about nine balls and Cookie Monster blowing a horn. That’s it. But to look at Taylor you’d think that I have strung the branches in catnip. He sleeps next to it all day long, just on the other side of the ceramic Christmas Tigger that sits at the bottom of the tree. Taylor looks like a little gift, just ready for the holiday. Maybe he remembers that the stocking that he is sleeping under last year was filled with toys for him.
I love this season, I really do.
It’s quiet, and warm, and happy… and expensive.
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