Mom's latest assignment went off without a hitch. Well, that's not entirely true. She had to interview a bunch of frat boys, remember? First the batteries in her tape recorder died, then her pen froze (it was COLD) and she had to keep borrowing lighters to heat it so she could take notes. Lucky for her there were a lot of smokers in the area.
The frat boys were all quite friendly and helpful, and Mom got some great material. But she didn't remember the cardinal rule, which is "go before you go". She had to use the bathroom at the frat house. Mom's skin is still crawling. 30 guys and one toilet? You can imagine the carnage. She didn't remember the second rule either, which is "pack your paper". There wasn't a shred of toilet tissue to be found. Live and learn, the hard way.
Her next job also involves college students, but these ones will be cleaner (she hopes) and it will be much warmer (she hopes) and she will come prepared (still hoping). There's a big charity walk-a-thon on Sunday and Mom has to explore the scene and take pictures. It comforts her to know that we'll be snug and safe at home, waiting eagerly for her return, regardless of how many misadventures she has along the way.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Taste of spring
Mom went to visit Granny yesterday and came home with a whole trunk load of applewood branches! They are the perfect size to gnaw on and loaded with tasty nublets. Kenzie and I wasted no time digging in. Mom says we have to share with the sanctuary rabbits. As a rule, I am opposed to the "S" word but suppose in this case I can make an exception.
In other news, Mom has been busy with her new job, which means she is hogging the computer and using up all my internet time. This may be the last you hear from me for a while. Last week she interviewed a group of senior citizens about new technology, and this week it's a house full of frat boys who are hosting a charity event. Mom is excited about those frat boys. She's planning to wear a new sweater and her good bra. I hesitate to remind her that she is old enough to be their mother. Mom can be rather touchy sometimes.
As for Kenzie and me, we're continuing our assault on the sofa springs. Mom erected a feeble barrier, but mere cardboard and duct tape are no match for two determined bunnies! Mom hears us rampaging and just whimpers. She tries to convince us that "neat" and "tidy" are desirable qualities and ones we should aspire to. I say what good is a living room without upholstery bits strewn from wall to wall? She should at least be impressed by our work ethic.
In other news, Mom has been busy with her new job, which means she is hogging the computer and using up all my internet time. This may be the last you hear from me for a while. Last week she interviewed a group of senior citizens about new technology, and this week it's a house full of frat boys who are hosting a charity event. Mom is excited about those frat boys. She's planning to wear a new sweater and her good bra. I hesitate to remind her that she is old enough to be their mother. Mom can be rather touchy sometimes.
As for Kenzie and me, we're continuing our assault on the sofa springs. Mom erected a feeble barrier, but mere cardboard and duct tape are no match for two determined bunnies! Mom hears us rampaging and just whimpers. She tries to convince us that "neat" and "tidy" are desirable qualities and ones we should aspire to. I say what good is a living room without upholstery bits strewn from wall to wall? She should at least be impressed by our work ethic.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Destructo-buns
Mom calls Kenzie and me her tiny tornadoes, and with good reason. We lay waste to our surroundings with lightning speed! Why, just this morning Kenzie flung the hay bowl off the top step of our pen. Hay flew everywhere! I did my part by scattering pieces clear out to the living room. By the time we were finished, there wasn't a square inch of our surroundings that wasn't buried in hay.
Usually Mom groans and drags out the vacuum. That poor vacuum. I don't know how it's managed to survive this long. But sometimes, like today, Mom just gives up. "What did I ever do to deserve this?" she moans, picking her way through the rubble. She needn't be so melodramatic. It's just hay. We'll eat it, sooner or later. Personally, I like being able to graze my way through half the house.
Mom tries to blame the sorry state of her housekeeping on us buns, but that's so unfair. It's not OUR fault there's a hairball the size of a small chipmunk in the bathtub drain. And that mountainous heap of unfolded clothes in the bedroom? That has nothing to do with US. Sure, we might try to scale it every now and then, maybe take a little nibble out of a T shirt here or there. We are curious little bunnies and that's what bunnies do.
Mom likes to tell us a story about two good little bunnies who are fastidiously tidy, never shed, and keep their poop piled neatly inside their litterboxes at all times. We don't believe a word of it. Bunnies were born to wreak havoc, and that's just what we do, on a daily basis. Why, Mom wouldn't know what to do without the crunch of hay underfoot. If it wasn't for us, she'd be forced to clean up her own cookie crumbs, and shred her own bills. She really ought to THANK us for our service.
Usually Mom groans and drags out the vacuum. That poor vacuum. I don't know how it's managed to survive this long. But sometimes, like today, Mom just gives up. "What did I ever do to deserve this?" she moans, picking her way through the rubble. She needn't be so melodramatic. It's just hay. We'll eat it, sooner or later. Personally, I like being able to graze my way through half the house.
Mom tries to blame the sorry state of her housekeeping on us buns, but that's so unfair. It's not OUR fault there's a hairball the size of a small chipmunk in the bathtub drain. And that mountainous heap of unfolded clothes in the bedroom? That has nothing to do with US. Sure, we might try to scale it every now and then, maybe take a little nibble out of a T shirt here or there. We are curious little bunnies and that's what bunnies do.
Mom likes to tell us a story about two good little bunnies who are fastidiously tidy, never shed, and keep their poop piled neatly inside their litterboxes at all times. We don't believe a word of it. Bunnies were born to wreak havoc, and that's just what we do, on a daily basis. Why, Mom wouldn't know what to do without the crunch of hay underfoot. If it wasn't for us, she'd be forced to clean up her own cookie crumbs, and shred her own bills. She really ought to THANK us for our service.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Give credit where credit is due
So Mom had her first job assignment last week, interviewing a local artist about her exhibit and life in general. Mom was nervous to the point of almost being sick. She did all of her research, bought a new tape recorder, and dressed in her nicest "interview clothes", but it still wasn't enough to quell the terror rising within her breast! "Oh, Freddie," she moaned. "How I wish rabbits were allowed in the art museum. I would wrap you in a blankie and take you along with me for moral support!"
Well, we all know how well THAT would go over. She couldn't take ME, but she did end up taking about a half pound of my hair, stuck up and down her good black slacks. Did I mention it's shedding season? Mom said having fuzzy pants would remind her that we, her loyal bunnies, are always with her in spirit, and will love her even if she falls flat on her face and gets fired in disgrace.
She did not fall flat on her face after all. In fact, her piece was printed on the front page of the paper, and she knows exactly who to thank for that! Who sat at her feet while she frantically typed, offering constructive criticism and alternate word choices? Why, I practically wrote the whole article myself, but being a modest and unassuming bunny, would hesitate to point that out to anyone who might ask. Let mom bask in the glory all by herself. WE know the truth.....
Well, we all know how well THAT would go over. She couldn't take ME, but she did end up taking about a half pound of my hair, stuck up and down her good black slacks. Did I mention it's shedding season? Mom said having fuzzy pants would remind her that we, her loyal bunnies, are always with her in spirit, and will love her even if she falls flat on her face and gets fired in disgrace.
She did not fall flat on her face after all. In fact, her piece was printed on the front page of the paper, and she knows exactly who to thank for that! Who sat at her feet while she frantically typed, offering constructive criticism and alternate word choices? Why, I practically wrote the whole article myself, but being a modest and unassuming bunny, would hesitate to point that out to anyone who might ask. Let mom bask in the glory all by herself. WE know the truth.....
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Cracking the whip
Mom has been lazy the last two days. She's been lounging around the house in her flannel jammies, eating chocolate pie right out of the pie tin. She'll tell you she has no choice. Sure, we may have had a blizzard. There may be three foot drifts in the driveway. Mom may have made a feeble attempt to dig out using her pitiful plastic shovel. Still, that's no excuse. She's even skipping school tonight!
You won't see Kenzie and me lying around, no sir. Mostly because we're too COLD. The furnace broke down overnight. Mom sleeps with an electric blanket so she didn't notice it at first, but we buns sure did. I let Mom know exactly how I felt about freezing my fluffy little tail off! She woke to hear me THUMP THUMP THUMPING, while icicles formed on my tender little ears!
Would you believe she still didn't get dressed, not even for the furnace repairman? She threw on a fuzzy bathrobe and called it good. She said she's sure he's seen plenty of women in their pajamas before, and besides, he's young enough to be her son. Kenzie went out to greet him, but I stayed safely in the bathroom. Mom will say that's because I was SCARED. I say I was EMBARRASSED.
Anyway, we now have heat, and the driveway's cleared, and Mom is running out of reasons why she should still be lying on the couch watching Dr. Oz instead of cooking or cleaning or tending to us bunnies. She says tomorrow she'll have to break down and take a shower. I just shake my head and go back to demolishing the bag of newspapers by the front door. ONE of us has to have a work ethic!
You won't see Kenzie and me lying around, no sir. Mostly because we're too COLD. The furnace broke down overnight. Mom sleeps with an electric blanket so she didn't notice it at first, but we buns sure did. I let Mom know exactly how I felt about freezing my fluffy little tail off! She woke to hear me THUMP THUMP THUMPING, while icicles formed on my tender little ears!
Would you believe she still didn't get dressed, not even for the furnace repairman? She threw on a fuzzy bathrobe and called it good. She said she's sure he's seen plenty of women in their pajamas before, and besides, he's young enough to be her son. Kenzie went out to greet him, but I stayed safely in the bathroom. Mom will say that's because I was SCARED. I say I was EMBARRASSED.
Anyway, we now have heat, and the driveway's cleared, and Mom is running out of reasons why she should still be lying on the couch watching Dr. Oz instead of cooking or cleaning or tending to us bunnies. She says tomorrow she'll have to break down and take a shower. I just shake my head and go back to demolishing the bag of newspapers by the front door. ONE of us has to have a work ethic!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Onward and upward
Mom found out this week that she's been accepted to Eastern Michigan University, with a scholarship! She's been positively giddy, dancing and singing around the house, making a horrendous racket. Sure, we're happy for her and all, but we're trying to NAP here. A little consideration....??
Mom will be striving for a degree in Professional Writing, with a minor in Theatre. She has already enlisted my help with the writing part. She figures I'm already hard at work on these blogs, so I might as well take some time and hack out her homework for her. It's a daunting responsibility. Mom's entire academic future could rest on my furry little shoulders! Let's see if she remembers to give the bunny some credit at graduation....
Mom will be striving for a degree in Professional Writing, with a minor in Theatre. She has already enlisted my help with the writing part. She figures I'm already hard at work on these blogs, so I might as well take some time and hack out her homework for her. It's a daunting responsibility. Mom's entire academic future could rest on my furry little shoulders! Let's see if she remembers to give the bunny some credit at graduation....
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Move over, Mom!
So Mom came home today all atwitter! She's been offered a job writing for the local newspaper. She's all excited.
My first question, as always, is how will this affect ME? I'll tell you how. I'm being bumped from my rightful spot as bunny blogger! Mom's kicking me out of the chair and off the keyboard. "Outta my way, I've got a deadline!" she bellers, hacking away feverishly.
Mom insists that I am being "melodramatic". According to her, she's not really usurping my power. She's merely suggesting that we SHARE the computer. So I am expected to stew in my creative juices while she slaps out some nonsense piece about city zoning ordinances or the dearth of affordable downtown parking. What nerve!
Mom says I will have plenty of time to wax poetic while she's off chasing leads and interviewing sources. I fret. I'm used to having free rein at the computer desk. Still, it's about time she started bringing in some cash. She'd been threatening to send Kenzie and me out on the street with a tin cup and a little sign saying "Will poop for food".
My first question, as always, is how will this affect ME? I'll tell you how. I'm being bumped from my rightful spot as bunny blogger! Mom's kicking me out of the chair and off the keyboard. "Outta my way, I've got a deadline!" she bellers, hacking away feverishly.
Mom insists that I am being "melodramatic". According to her, she's not really usurping my power. She's merely suggesting that we SHARE the computer. So I am expected to stew in my creative juices while she slaps out some nonsense piece about city zoning ordinances or the dearth of affordable downtown parking. What nerve!
Mom says I will have plenty of time to wax poetic while she's off chasing leads and interviewing sources. I fret. I'm used to having free rein at the computer desk. Still, it's about time she started bringing in some cash. She'd been threatening to send Kenzie and me out on the street with a tin cup and a little sign saying "Will poop for food".
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