Blech

Well, I was still out of sorts and couldn't find anything in the house to eat for dinner and so here's what I had: Raman noodles and marshmallows. Needless to say, there are no Tums in the house, either, and I could use some after that lovely meal. But I had a fine old time tossing marshmallows to the dog. They're so light-weight that she was snapping her mouth shut too soon and they were hitting her right in the nose. That was pretty funny. I've given up on teaching her to annoy the Butcher on command. It'd be a useful skill, but she just doesn't get it. I know she knows she has a name. She just doesn't get that we have names, too. This wouldn't bother me, but I'm pretty certain that she knows the Professor's name, because whenever I'm like "Look, there's the Professor!" the dog looks right at where I'm pointing. Whenever I say, "Look, there's the Butcher!" she comes right up to me and tries to lick me. So, my new plan is to teach the orange cat to annoy the Butcher on command. I'm actually more optimistic about this plan, because the orange cat is mean, and I just have to believe that it's a lot easier to motivate mean folks to pick on the Butcher than big sweeties like Mrs. Wigglebottom.