My Nest Runneth Over: Part Two

Currently, it is day 392 of the quarantine. (I’ve decided to start expressing this quarantine in dog years because each day feels about 7X longer than a normal day.)

Speaking of dogs…

Charlie and Buttons are doing much better.

Those two former “poopetrators” haven’t had an accident in almost a month.

“Good job, Charlie! Good job, Buttons!” I called as they sunbathed on the back patio.

They both responded with an icy stare. Rumor has it that they weren’t pleased with how they were portrayed in the last story.

This may be why Charlie retaliated by chewing the edge off my wooden Easter cross.

I sighed when I saw the blasphemous bite marks.

Charlie’s going to have to answer to the Big Guy Upstairs for that one.

Speaking of upstairs…

That’s where EVERYBODY NEEDS TO KEEP THEIR SHOES!

“I’d like our entryway NOT to resemble a clearance rack,” I told the troops during a recent shoe seminar. They all nodded.

But 3 hours later, the shoe bin was once again overflowing.

Good Lord, was I living with centipedes?

“The shoe bin is for running shoes and running shoes only,” I reminded them.

The white zone is for loading and unloading only.

 “Can I at least keep my flip-flops in the bin?” Quincey asked. “They’re like 2 ounces.”

“Okay,” I conceded.

I should have known better.

Flip-flops are the gateway sandal.

Soon after the Skechers snuck in.

Then the Adidas appeared.

With each passing day, the soles got heavier, the straps strappier.

Ounces turned into kilos.

Kilos of thick rubber soles.

My shoe bin runneth over.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, somebody* just tried to slip in the clunkiest, the earthiest, the eye-sore of all sandals…

BIRKENSTOCKS!

Guess again, buddy.

Speaking of guessing…

We’re all keeping ourselves entertained with new and exciting guessing games.

The latest is “Guess the Date of the Expired Spice.” (Patent pending.) We invented this gem when we (me) decided to clean out the kitchen cupboards.

Here’s how the game goes: I hold up a spice and a family member guesses the year it expired. The real thrill is when spices are more than a decade past their date.

The ‘08 Turmeric was a rush.

The ‘04 Cumin brought the players to their feet.

But it was the ’97 Paprika that sent us all into a frenzy.

Of course this led to some questions (concerns) about the expired spices my family had ingested over the years.

“Hey, you’re all alive and well,” I told them.

Speaking of alive and well…

Quincey and Colby brought home ultrasound pictures of the baby.

The baby is now the size of a cantaloupe (don’t worry, cantaloupe juice is not a mixer**) and weighs almost 2 pounds. It sucks its precious thumb, and has the cutest little feet.

One day those cute little feet will wear adorable tiny booties.

And he (or she) can keep as many booties as they want in the shoe bin.

*Parker

**My Nest Runneth Over, Part 1