The snipers made me do it

I lied. Our current apartment is actually 988 square feet. My fact checker, who is, incidentally, also my legal counsel AND spouse, discovered my prevarication while looking online for a way to get around our rate hike. Understatement is a valid rhetorical device, probably not seen quite as often as its good friend hyperbole, but I was basically trying to get you to feel sorry for us which is just ridiculous considering that we still have more living space than approximately 98% of the world.

I read this actual sentence in an obituary a few weeks ago: (I changed the name)

"Louisa may have had many ventures but her true love lay with Jazzercise."

I read them mostly because I think it's interesting how many euphemisms there are for the word 'died'. I think 'expired' is my least favorite.

We got some money to buy a new television for Christmas and we finally got around to actually buying one a couple of weeks ago. Our old one was eleven years old and was deeper than it was wide. It required rabbit ears. When the new tv showed us its sparkly high definition, the husband and I chortled with glee. It must be like what it feels like to get glasses for the first time. Of course, it is also precisely the kind of nonsense Ray Bradbury was warning us about in Fahrenheit 451. Why engage in the real world when the virtual world is so accommodating?

Harper is a pretty even-tempered kid most of the time. She does, however, tend to get frustrated quickly when she can't do something by herself, like get a toy that's really wedged into the corner of the toy box. She usually lets out this high pitched grunt/scream. Yesterday she took it up a notch. She was trying to ride her tricycle through a too narrow pathway in her room and the wheel got tangled in a corner of her tent. I was washing dishes and heard the grunt/scream and was walking over to render aid (and encourage her to ask for help before the grunt/scream instead of as a last resort) just as she threw herself backwards, a la Mary Catherine Gallagher on SNL of old, into the side of her tent. To add to the comedy, she had earlier taken off most of her clothes and was wearing these white patent dress shoes with ankle straps that she calls her "ballet shoes." So there she was on her back in the middle of her wrecked tent crying, yelling, and waving her ballet shoes in the air in utter frustration. I had to put her in her bed for five minutes just to compose myself.
Hudson thinks it is hilarious when I blow my nose. He is also entertained when I am putting my hair in a ponytail. He starts talking in the high pitched voice he uses when he sees animals so I can only assume that he thinks I have suddenly sprouted a puppy on the back of my head.