Blankets, Allegies, And Coyotes! Oh My!

I finished the blanket, three burp cloths, and taggy for Scottie & May's baby shower (all modeled by Baby Rose. She's Bitsy's birthday present from B.B. He named her, "A'cause I buyed it for her!"). Now if only my kids would get well enough that I can go....guess we'll find out on Saturday. If they're still ill, and Husband has to work, I'll be housebound. Crumb (that's my new word...well, not really new but I've only recently realized just how much I use it).

I really need to start going to bed at a decent time. Last night I stayed up until 11:30. The night before that I didn't turn in until after midnight. It wouldn't be a big deal if my kids weren't waking me up a minimum of 6 times a night & getting up for good around 7 am. Makes for one cranky, sleep deprived, zombie of a mom.

My allergies are in high gear this morning. I'm waiting impatiently for my Claritin to kick in. Normally I'd say ragweed or milk weed is making me itchy & sneezy, but Inkling has currently brought to my attention that it may in fact be a laundry allergy. There is a basket of blue jeans needing to be put up in my living room & I did fold & put away 3 loads of towels last night & I have to strip the beds today....so yes, it's definitely the laundry.

I keep forgetting to tell you all that we found out what happened to my diamond. It's an interesting story...I only wish I knew all of it, but we only have bits & pieces at the moment. Apparently bad coyotes "stoled" it. At least that's what B.B. said. It's either that or, "A bad guy what didn't have a girl to marry stoled it. Then he got in his car & he went & he got there and he founded a girl to marry. And the girl what he's going to get married to was in the car & now they're married." At least it went to good use.

Before you start thinking B.B. is making up stories to cover his own crime, let me assure you, he makes up stories about EVERYTHING. After Bucka had his bypass last December, B.B. informed me a bad skunk scratched Bucka all up & that's why he had to get all those stitches. Every time we went over there, B.B. had to check Bucka's skunk scratches. Maybe he'll be a writer when he grows up....no, wait, I forgot. He's not going to grow up because he doesn't want me to die. At least until he's good & mad at me. Then he threatens to grow up so I will die. Can you feel the love?