Old news

Would you believe Mom is still scolding me for my home improvements?? You would think she'd be grateful to have a hard-working house bunny with bunstruction skills. There's not a room in the house that's not been graced with my special artistic touches.

It's easier to get away with  engage in this behavior because Mom's shackled herself to the computer for what she describes as "mountains of homework". It's heavy duty homework too, the kind that causes her to utter the kind of language that sensitive house bunnies should not be subjected to. So instead of sticking around and being morally compromised, Kenzie and I headed out to see what kind of havoc we could wreak projects we could devote ourselves to.

It's Mom's own fault. Granny suggested the other day that we might be BORED. "Free reign of every room in the house, and the little $%#$s decide they need more EXCITEMENT in their lives???" Mom bellered, as we dove for cover. The cover we chose happened to be the living room sofa, and while we huddled under there, clinging to each other in fear and desperation, I noticed that the carpet seemed to be a little discolored (not that I had ANYTHING to do with THAT), and I gave it just the tiniest tug.

Well, you know that saying about potato chips, you can't ever only eat just one? It kind of works that way for carpeting too. And once I'd pulled up a cubic foot of the stuff over by the lamp, it seemed aesthetically pleasing to just keep going. By the time Mom dragged herself away from analyzing "The Merchant of Venice" as delineated in structuralism, or some such nonsense, we'd* cleared away the size of a small wading pool.

So today we are marooned under the bed while Mom mitigates the damage. She's going to measure for a throw rug, and perhaps some barbed wire.

*Kenzie insists she was not involved. She only acted as a lookout. You know what Judge Judy would say about THAT.

Pride and Productivity

It has come to my attention that my beloved human cousin Armando has been led to believe some spurious untruths about me and my equally beloved mate Kenzie. There is NOT poop "all over the house". We keep it to the bathroom, bedroom, and under the sofa. And I didn't "lay waste to the perfectly good living room carpet". I merely REARRANGED the tufts in a pleasant, bunny-friendly pattern. And despite what some might allege, I do NOT stick my nose in everything Mom eats and take a chunk for myself. Well, *I* do not. Kenzie, on the other hand...

I really can't blame the boy for thinking ill of us. Moth refuses to let us travel in the car unless it's a trip to the VET, and therefore we can't actually SEE Armando and solicit his sympathy. Mom says we can send him a note at Christmas, but you can't really lay out a case for yourself in a Hallmark card. Especially the cheap kind Mom buys with no blank space.

So I will go on being maligned, consoled only by my sea grass chewie and the fifty pound bag of seed Mom bought for the birds. At least she said it was for the birds, when she saw me gnawing a hole in the bottom of it. I say what's a little more debris on Mom's kitchen floor? It's not like we're living in the Barbie Dream House. Of course, I have proudly left my mark on Mom's ACTUAL Barbie house, but that's another story for another time.