room. The same room that still has unicorn bed sheets and fan girl posters on the walls. Facepalm. Ugh!!! I’m such a geek!
T he sun is shining brightly through my bedroom window this morning. I guess I forgot to close the shades when I crashed last night. Gah!! Last night started out so promising, but then that bitch on wheels had to show up and ruin everything. I may be shy at times, but I refuse to let anyone treat me like I don’t matter. The nerve of that obnoxious bitch just gets me even more infuriated. I ball my fists and slam them down on top of my covers. I hit something fluffier than the down comforter. Last time I checked, blankets didn’t grumble at you. I pop up to see poor Clyde glaring at me with a what-the-hell look on his sweet face.
“I’m sorry, boy; I didn’t mean to clobber you,” I apologize to Clyde. He’s a sensitive dog. An upset Clyde will ignore you for days until he decides to forgive you. I guess he realizes I didn’t mean to hit him, since he crawls up my bed to lay across my chest and lick my face. He also always seems to know what I need at exactly the right time. I scratch him behind the ears and give him kisses on his velvety soft head.
“I need some advice, Clyde, what should I do?” I ask him. He answers with a huff and I continue to describe the events of last night. He’s such a good listener and even gives a proper growl when I get to the part about Mitzi.
Good Dog!
I share with him about Layla shooting the darts and ruining Mitzi’s purse and Clyde starts wagging his tail excitedly. “Well, there you have it, what’s your advice? Should I give Derrick another chance?” Clyde jumps up onto all fours and howls at me, happy tail wagging. What a goofy dog. “You think so?” Clyde answers with a deep
woof.
“Alright boy, if he calls, I’ll hear him out and decide from there, Ok?”
‘Woof, woof’
he answers back
.
I know I can always count on Clyde to give me good advice.
Rolling over, I grab my glasses, put them on, and look at the clock on my night stand; 9:35 am. I stretch my arms and legs and then climb out of bed. I let Clyde out of my room and shuffle to the bathroom, relieve myself, brush my teeth and hair, and then shuffle down the hall to the kitchen. I can hear the morning news coming from the living room T.V. The smell of coffee brewing and toasted bread makes my stomach growl.
“Morning, honey,” GG says, as I give her a kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning,” I reply, stretching my back. “That looks good,” I say, indicating the lightly toasted bread covered with butter and cinnamon sugar.
“Want some?” She asks with a smile and then just hands me the plate she had made for herself. I gladly take it from her; I’m starving!
“Thanks, GG, love ya!” I tell her taking a huge bite and turning to join Pops at the table where he’s hiding behind today’s paper, Clyde at his feet.
“So what’s going on in the world today Pops? Anything good?” He peaks around the paper smiling at me.
“Nah, it’s all bad news. If they reported good news, nobody would watch or read it,” he jokes. He takes a sip of coffee from his blue mug that reads “World’s Greatest Pop Pop.” I got him that mug about ten years ago for Father’s Day. He’s used it every morning since.
“So what did you and Layla do last night?” GG inquires. I start off telling her about the pole dancing class and she looks surprised. Then I tell her about Derrick and my suspicions on Layla setting us up. “Layla is a good friend, Amy. I’m sure she had your best interests at heart. You should be dating and if you like this boy, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“I know, GG.” I continue with the story leaving nothing out. GG becomes visibly irritated as I share the Mitzi incident.
“The nerve of that girl. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. You get your spunkiness from my side of the family.” I hear her mumble something under her breath that
T he sun is shining brightly through my bedroom window this morning. I guess I forgot to close the shades when I crashed last night. Gah!! Last night started out so promising, but then that bitch on wheels had to show up and ruin everything. I may be shy at times, but I refuse to let anyone treat me like I don’t matter. The nerve of that obnoxious bitch just gets me even more infuriated. I ball my fists and slam them down on top of my covers. I hit something fluffier than the down comforter. Last time I checked, blankets didn’t grumble at you. I pop up to see poor Clyde glaring at me with a what-the-hell look on his sweet face.
“I’m sorry, boy; I didn’t mean to clobber you,” I apologize to Clyde. He’s a sensitive dog. An upset Clyde will ignore you for days until he decides to forgive you. I guess he realizes I didn’t mean to hit him, since he crawls up my bed to lay across my chest and lick my face. He also always seems to know what I need at exactly the right time. I scratch him behind the ears and give him kisses on his velvety soft head.
“I need some advice, Clyde, what should I do?” I ask him. He answers with a huff and I continue to describe the events of last night. He’s such a good listener and even gives a proper growl when I get to the part about Mitzi.
Good Dog!
I share with him about Layla shooting the darts and ruining Mitzi’s purse and Clyde starts wagging his tail excitedly. “Well, there you have it, what’s your advice? Should I give Derrick another chance?” Clyde jumps up onto all fours and howls at me, happy tail wagging. What a goofy dog. “You think so?” Clyde answers with a deep
woof.
“Alright boy, if he calls, I’ll hear him out and decide from there, Ok?”
‘Woof, woof’
he answers back
.
I know I can always count on Clyde to give me good advice.
Rolling over, I grab my glasses, put them on, and look at the clock on my night stand; 9:35 am. I stretch my arms and legs and then climb out of bed. I let Clyde out of my room and shuffle to the bathroom, relieve myself, brush my teeth and hair, and then shuffle down the hall to the kitchen. I can hear the morning news coming from the living room T.V. The smell of coffee brewing and toasted bread makes my stomach growl.
“Morning, honey,” GG says, as I give her a kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning,” I reply, stretching my back. “That looks good,” I say, indicating the lightly toasted bread covered with butter and cinnamon sugar.
“Want some?” She asks with a smile and then just hands me the plate she had made for herself. I gladly take it from her; I’m starving!
“Thanks, GG, love ya!” I tell her taking a huge bite and turning to join Pops at the table where he’s hiding behind today’s paper, Clyde at his feet.
“So what’s going on in the world today Pops? Anything good?” He peaks around the paper smiling at me.
“Nah, it’s all bad news. If they reported good news, nobody would watch or read it,” he jokes. He takes a sip of coffee from his blue mug that reads “World’s Greatest Pop Pop.” I got him that mug about ten years ago for Father’s Day. He’s used it every morning since.
“So what did you and Layla do last night?” GG inquires. I start off telling her about the pole dancing class and she looks surprised. Then I tell her about Derrick and my suspicions on Layla setting us up. “Layla is a good friend, Amy. I’m sure she had your best interests at heart. You should be dating and if you like this boy, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“I know, GG.” I continue with the story leaving nothing out. GG becomes visibly irritated as I share the Mitzi incident.
“The nerve of that girl. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. You get your spunkiness from my side of the family.” I hear her mumble something under her breath that
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