Hello and happy Thursday. No advice column today, I’m afraid. I’m neck-deep in revising my novel and can’t spare the time for blogging, since I’m leaving for an eight day trip to Cape Town tonight and thus must be productive before vacation.
To tide you over until the next post, let me share a tiny story with you. This morning, when my husband was getting ready to leave for work and I was still lounging around in bed at the decadent hour of 7:30, he asked me, “Do you remember what you did last night?” Never a confidence-rousing question, that. I said, “No…” And he said, “You don’t remember waking up and shaking me and saying, ‘A butt! A butt!’?”
And then I remembered.
You see, last night I woke up and saw what appeared to me to be a rhinoceros butt in our bedroom. Alarmed, rightly, that there was a rhino in our room, I did the only sensible thing and shook my husband and started shrieking, “A butt! A butt! Al, look, there’s a rhino butt in our room!”
Turns out, this was the culprit:
The alleged rhino butt
Hey, in certain lighting, a safari hat can look like a rhino butt, okay? Anyway, apparently after a few seconds of insisting to Al that we were infested with rhinos, I realized that I was, in fact, looking at a safari hat and went back to sleep. So the situation resolved itself, really. We didn’t even have to break out the emergency tranquilizer darts.
Well, I’ll try to blog over my vacay but no promises. Hang tough.
