As if painting the dining room and the hutch and waiting to hear about my MRI weren't fun enough, this morning I've been shopping for car insurance. I know!
Marvin is taking me off his car insurance, and fortunately I am on Mint.com, which one of you mentioned in Pieces of Wisdom as being a good way to manage your finances. I've been using it ever since and I would marry it if it were legal to marry a website. June Mint. Or maybe I'd be June .com.
Anyway, there was just one button I had to click and it led me to all the car insurance sites, and they are sending me quotes. They are SUPPOSED to be emailing me a dollar figure, and all the ones who are (a) calling and saying, "Call us back!" or (2) emailing and not giving me a quote but wanting to me contact them are getting ignored by June Mint, over here.
So far Geico is winning, which is good because I like their commercials best.
June Mint. Savvy consumer.
Also too, Marvin and I took the dogs for a walk, and every time we do something together and I can't help but think it might be the last time we do such a thing together. Everything has a last-episode-of-the-Mary-Tyler-Moore-Show feel to it and what I like about myself are my current references.
We came up to the Snowflake house and you'll never guess what. They got a puppy.
I didn't have to say a thing. I just handed Talu's leash to Marvin and headed over there. "YOU'RE BACK!" the oldest one screamed at me, as though my walking past weren't something that happened 12 times a day.
"WE GOT A PUPPY!" bellowed the middle one. "I GOT LIP GLOSS!" She ran over to show me. "IT'S MINT!" Maybe she was talking about my new last name. That just occurred to me.
Anyway, that teensy gold puppy was the cutest most ridiculous ball of cute cuteyness you have ever seen in your entire life. She is clearly from the Snowflake family, which makes me wonder what kind of orgy situation Snowflake's relatives have going on over where Snowflake was reared.
"WE'RE PRETENDING SNOWFLAKE IS THE MOM AND THE PUPPY IS THE BABY!"
"Come here, sweetheart!" I said, and that ludicrously cute ball of fluff stumbled over to me like a shot.
"YOU WANNA HOLD HER? WE NAMED HER GOLDILOCKS!"
Furthering my theory that this family takes half a blink to think of pet names.
You can imagine how I turned down the offer to hold her. "Oh, no. I'm pressed for time." Please. Oh, I held that puppy, and kissed her, and she kissed me, and she sniffed in my ear like they do, and she was so fluffy, and I hugged her and cooed at her, and I said to the girls, "Look how this puppy is just the same color as my two dogs over there!"
There was a pause.
For the first time, the oldest girl spoke quietly to me.
"Can I have my dog back now?"
Geez! I wasn't gonna STEAL it! You know, much. Maybe I was just gonna offer to take it for a DAY.
And then it got worse. She said, "Do you remember when you used to come over? When your hair didn't...do that?" She looked at my short Meridith Baxter 'do searchingly.
Oh those silky-haired flaxen brats. I am stealing that puppy the minute I get the opportunity. I am so Cruella DeVilling them. When my hair didn't DO that. I am so sure.
All right. I am off. I have to buy insurance, find out if I'm gonna live or die, give the hutch a second coat, steal a puppy, shave three children bald--I'm swamped.