Upon getting the link to my new blog, my daughter emailed me, and I quote: "Oh no you didn't. DH. You're one of those people now."
What do you suppose she meant?
A geek? Yep. But she already knew that.
A blogger? I'm retired and the dog's cute. How best to show everyone? Or was it the use of DH? (My son and my DH, hereafter referred to as Cuddle Buns, have had fun figuring out the different things that acronym could mean.)
OR does she think I've become one of those crazy old ladies who talks to their dogs like they are babies calling them things in a really high pitched voice like HEY RUDY TOOTIE FRESH AND FRUITY, carrying them everywhere and dressing them in ridiculous costumes.
As an afterthought to my Iowa visit, why is it, do you suppose, that the parents felt the need to play with my dog with their feet? Dad did, too. At least my mom refuses to take off her shoes. She's the only one not to get a pieced toe.