Stick a fork in me, I'm done.
Chicky Baby had an awful day today. She refused to nap, decided to wage a physical war on the dogs (taking a page from Shanna Moakler's book of bar etiquette, perhaps?) and was just a huge crank all day. Cranky Pants, that's her new name. Pussface Pissypants was the other choice. I can do little more than huddle in a corner in the fetal position, whimpering, and clutching a glass of riesling (from a local winery, no less. It's quite nice).
Maybe it's all the teeth she's getting all at once. Six teeth! Six, people! Six motherslappinwhilenotnappin teeth! Four molars and two incisors. I think I'll add a shot of gin to that bottle of wine I'm going to finish tonight. I hope it's not an ear infection brewing. I noticed that her ear was a little red while putting her to bed tonight. I sincerely hope it's red because I dug my finger in there to clear the canal of all that wax we always miss during bathtime.
Maybe I'll save that gin for tomorrow. I'm sure I'll need some extra liquid fortitude if she's as cranky as she was today.
So what I'm trying to say is... I've got nothing fun to post about. Unless you want to talk about teething tablets and Tylenol (or maybe share some of your pain numbing secrets? Hmmm?) you should go over to Dog Gone Blog and check out some ways you can show your support during National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
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