1. For the past several months I've been slipping the sentence, "The doggy said she loves me!" into casual conversations.
For instance:
Laura: "Have you heard about Romney in Britain today? Apparently, he's made multiple gaffes."
Ian: "I heard about it on NPR."
Laura: "I think the Brits are quietly waiting for Romney to tie one of the Queen's corgis atop his mini-van and drive it into the River Thames."
Ian: "Ha."
Laura: "He's headed to Israel next. That should be a nice, easy atmosphere to prove his diplomatic skills. The doggy said she loves me! So, yeah, I can't wait to hear what he'll say next."
Ian: "Did you... did you just say, 'The doggy said she loves me'?"
Laura: "I'm not sure. But she does love me, so it's probable."
A scan of a younger me with a cowlick and a very young Winnie
Puppy Winnie
Ian: "We should get a hairless cat someday so you won't be allergic to it."
Laura: "Okay. They're ugly as hell, but I could deal with it if I could hold them. I never get to hold Spottswood and Harvey."
Ian: "They're intrigued by you."
Laura: "I know. They love me. I mean, they tell me all the time..."
...Meaning I constantly ask Ian to imitate the chickens. Polly's cluck is light and charming, Caroline's is loud and screechy, and Marjorine sounds like a duck.
Here's a video of Ian imitating Polly, Caroline, and Marjorine, in that order.
Harvey and Winnie got overly excited when the camera came out, so there's a bit of me loudly objecting.
We should have re-shot the video, but Winiferd in the Burbs hasn't yet reached that level of journalistic excellence. We pride ourselves on slapping together the most half-assed media you've ever seen.
So watch the video!



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