- Chelsea claims she is going through a "stocking" phase. She being the one with the license, us other four would constantly find ourselves wondering where our ride had gone, finding out within a few minutes that she was pranking us. One time we called her and she answered whispering. As it turns out, she had followed Bryan for several minutes as he walked to the neighborhood over where he got picked up, lingering within a few feet of him, while he had no idea. She even snapped a few creeper shots from behind and then sent them to him from an anonymous number. He never found out. So the next day we decided to tag along. After giving hugs, we pretended to walk out to the parking lot. We stopped and waited after turning the corner and then, waiting for Chelsea's cue, turned back around and followed him silently. Before we could make it out of the building, though, he caught us. "Ah, crap!" we moaned. "We were gonna try to scare you." He rolled his eyes walked on, laughing. But we were not finished. Again, pretending to go back to Chelsea's car, we swung around and this time more silently followed him outside the building and off the school grounds. We were almost there when some giggles at his oblivion finally made him glance back. Oh, that priceless look on his face. "Have you seriously been following me?" Pretty much. But that wasn't even Operation O2. With the next day a Friday, we took it to the extremes by following him home in Chelsea's car and chalking his house. Okay, so first we did this to a few of the other boys' houses, and they were successful. But in the middle of writing inside jokes and drawing kindergarten-worthy pictures on his driveway in hot pink chalk, the door opened, and he walked out with his two little brothers. There was no escaping now. One of his brothers found the hose and sprayed the chalk and me. So I figured-- what the heck?-- and squirted Bryan on full blast with references to All About Us. YOLO.
- So here's one thing I learned in this time of blog neglection. Don't brag. Especially about your health, flouting how immune you are to all illness just because you didn't get sick for like seven months during the worst flu season in the U.S. in ten years. Because then you'll end up getting really sick.
- One day I came home to this. How cute, right? These babies are fighters, born premature and tiny and pink. But they sure know how to squeal and wriggle around.
- Another day Daddy decided to shave Armani. He's our Madagascaran Coton de Tulear born in Paris. When he was a puppy, his nose looked like the shape of a heart, so we almost named him the French word for "kiss," but decided that might make him sound slightly homo and named him Armani instead. He's definitely not homo, considering how obsessed he is over even the golden retrievers that are six or seven times his size just because they are girls. Yes, he has even lifted his leg on them and growls furosiously at the male golden as if he thinks he is more than ten pounds. Okay, he can be pretty sweet though. I am just glad to say that his haircut ended up looking slightly better than this in the end. Here he is in flight and looks quite like he has been through horrors.
- We now have Rachel and her stupid sciene project to blame for the fact that we can never clean the bathroom without Mom coming in with the blacklight to make sure every surface is 100% clear of of glowing bacteria again.
- Oh, and we got a fish. His name is Mushu.
So this is my life.
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