Last night as I snuck in sleep between 5am and 7am, which takes me from when Evie finally falls soundly asleep until my 5 year old creeps into my room quietly so she can scare the crap out of me when she stands over my bed and sings, "Time to get up!". Sings it! Right in my face. In the morning! She can't be mine or she'd know the morning is a sad time that is only saved by coffee.
In that little window I had a dream that I was at my mother and father-in-law's house. When we got there we were surprised with their new addition- a third boxer puppy. My mother-in-law was happy because she said she finally got the girl boxer she'd always dreamed of. I'm no dream analyst, but I have a funny feeling her daughters and I should be a bit put off by that statement.
This dog was extremely creepy, and only my father-in-law and I seemed to notice this fact. The dog looked like a boxer, except it had a puff on it's head like the women in that cult Oprah visited.
|Picture a Boxer with this hair.|
I'm not going to lie. Telling that story was the entire point of this post. And just think how much time you wasted reading it, assuming it had some sort of ending that would bring forth a reason to bring any of this up.