Moose Musings......Again

Coordinating a group of adults is like trying to herd a group of Rollie Pollie's. There are those that cooperate, those that fail to pay attention - thus getting stepped on or over, and then those that curl into a protective ball with the hopes that noone will notice them.

It's amazing how much grown adults revert to the behavoir of their children when it comes to living up to their responsibilites. To me, ignoring e-mails and phone calls is akin to covering your ears and shouting "LA LALALALALALALLA" at the top of your lungs. It only makes you looks stupid and it sure doesn't take the focus off of you.

After many headaches, heartaches and just plain drama I have determined that belonging to a group of women is like attempting to shove 20 cats into a pickle jar. The claws come out, hissing insues and it just gets plain ugly. And besides, some are already so full of piss and vinegar that a pickle jar would just seem like a trip to the spa.

I am officially changing my name to Murphy.
It never fails that every patrol period crazy things happen to me in three's. After the teeth incident I was just waiting for the other two to mozy on through. And of course they arrived this past Wednesday.

No. 2 was my discovery that somewhere during my errands in my husband's brand new truck another car decided it couldn't resist it's lust for my ruby-red hunk of a man-mobile and "hugged and kissed" it.
The drivers side wheel well is scratched up, the headlight scraped and dinged and of course dented. And would you know it..... the estimates were $936.... and our deductable (set by my lovely husband) is 1K.
Finding that out was like taking the bandages off after a boob job to discover you now have pieces of pepperoni instead of nipples.

No. 3 was just a few hours later on Wednesday when my million-dollar kitty decided to get off her cute butt and earn her name.
Ms. Zsa Zsa Gabor starting tossing her cookies all over the house (namely the kiddo's bedroom) Along with said cookies she also produced pieces of vinyl as well as plastic bags.
Off to the vet we went where my little darling racked up a $700 bill complete with near surgery and lots of x-rays from the load of plastic and other junk she's eaten. She also required an overnight stay, where they pumped her full of fluids to move this junk through her system. All the while her sister Magda tried to smother me in my sleep from neediness.
How do I get it through her furry brain that she's a cat NOT a garbage disposal.
All I can say it she's lucky she's cute and she's lucky she can cuddle better than the rest of them.