"Den Mother"

     The semester is winding down, and thankfully, I only have one class remaining.   The group project is progressing slowly.  At times I feel like the den mother of a cub scout troop.  We haven't been communicating outside of class as much as I believe necessary to complete the project.  I stressed to the guys the need for increased communication, and subsequently asked them if they "text"...   I felt ridiculous as soon as the words had escaped my mouth, and quickly switched gears. " I know that was a ridiculous question. You fellows are probably wondering if I text..."  I have to admit, they were gracious...

     Seniors Get the Inside Story on Marriage.  Huh?  This was a headline in the Clark Monthly, which momentarily confused me (a senior moment?).  In actuality, it confused me until I read the first few sentences of the article, which was referring to a class for H.S. Seniors at the local school.  I was wondering why a certain age group would have needed that class...Many of us could have taught it!  I know I could have.  I found marriage to be very educational.

     Buddy managed to knock his rawhide bone under the love seat.  He crouched down, his head and front paws under the love seat, his butt sticking up in the air, and in an exercise in futility, attempted to reach it. When I realized he couldn't, I joined him on the floor, my arms flailing about, also in an exercise in futility (sort of-all of the dust bunnies are gone).  In exasperation, I got up to fetch the broom, and there was the bone in full view to the right of the love seat.  Well, duh!