After eating leftover spaghetti for Thanksgiving dinner, I have this to offer:

DTD (texting): Do you want a $100 gift card for Crate and Barrel?

KEM: Of course. Why?

DTD: Cause I don't want it and want the cash...why?

KEM: Ha ha. I was dumb enough to think u were just giving it to me. Who gave it to u?

DTD: Uh...you...lol.

KEM: Oh, for crying out loud.

DTD: Im kidding.

KEM: U r not kidding.

DTD: I had gotten something for my apartment but then returned it cause I found something else I liked better.

KEM: Does this go back to the 12 days of Christmas tree?*

DTD: Possibly...

KEM: OK u can have the dough.

DTD: Thank you :)

KEM: Anything 4 the darling one.


*A little clarification: Last year for her birthday I gave DTD an ornament tree from Crate and Barrel called The 12 Days of Christmas. Haven't I told you about this? After all, her birthday is 12 days before Christmas and my sister said DTD really like this tree when they were browsing the catalog.

Of course, the ornament tree went smack back to the Crate and they handed DTD a $100 gift card in exchange.

Which she apparently still has nearly a year later, after returning whatever she used the original gift card for her apartment and getting another $100 gift card.

So, in essence, I guess I didn't EXACTLY give her the $100 gift card. But that's how it sure sounds to me. Talk about coming full circle, with a couple of loop-dee-doos.

I hope no one wonders why all relatives under the age of 40 are going to get cold hard cash for Christmas/birthday/any occasion requiring a gift.

And anyone over age 75 is going to get flowers. Hey, this is getting easy.

Today at the vets (yes, we are still fooling with Jazzi's right ear) I walked out behind a rather enormous man. He stopped at the door and reached into the basket where they keep doggy treats. He didn't see me at first, but I saw him. He took a couple of massive fistfuls of doggy bones and left the basket bare, minus a few crumbs.

At this point he noticed me. My jaw literally dropped wide open when I saw he had cleaned it out and there wasn't even one left for Jazzi, which is her main point for going to the vet.

He quickly said, Oh, here. And handed me one and a half bones. Then he explained himself. He said he couldn't go home and have his dogs smell the vet on him without lots of treats. But, he says, I wouldn't let that little one (Jazzi, not so little) go without.

Geeze! I never!

Did everyone have a nice Thanksgiving?

OSpaghetti,
KEM