. . . in amounts of butter used in a single day!
. . . in number of movies seen in a single weekend!
. . . in number of white shirts purchased at a J.C. Penney by a mother/son buying duo!
. . . in how early I got up to run Christmas errands!
. . . in how hilarious running son, soccer coach son, and college daughter can be in a single sitting!
Actually, I'm pretty sure none of these things were records--they just seemed monumental. Two kinds of shortbread (chocolate, orange-almond) and sugar cookies. Three movies (The Kite Runner, I Am Legend, Atonement). 8 white shirts. Up by 7 a.m., out the door by 8, which made the errand-running actually pleasant, since few people were out shopping, even at the mall, which I hit around 9:45 a.m. (home by 11!). The kids? very hilarious. Super hilarious. Remind me to tell you the next time I see you.
Living the dog life, Part 742: Today, when historian returned from his errands, Bruiser greeted him at the door with slinking and cowering behavior, totally without provocation. Investigation turned up no indoor accidents, chewed up shoes, furniture nibbling, or anything else--until, in the kitchen, a preponderance of evidence showed that someone, some dog, had knocked a tupperware container of cookies to the floor. Betty showed absolutely no shame--indeed, when the historian picked up the remaining three or four cookies, she seemed a little put out. The historian told Bruiser that it was okay, petted him, and so forth, but Bruiser could be consoled only after he left the house to collect his thoughts and compose himself in the backyard.
What is this about? I feel it shows that Bruiser shares our values but has poor impulse control. Anyone have a better explanation?