just say no (no animals or computers were harmed in the making of this blog post)….

to pillow fights. W and I got all pumped while watching Wednesday night TV last night. Such good TV!

What do 32 year olds do when pumped??? We act like 8 year olds. Which is fine except for 32 year olds have more expensive stuff.

What happened was this: W threw a pillow at Rocky’s head. Rocky really doesn’t mind because he has a hard head and this was a super soft pillow; he just thinks its another form of petting. Actually, I don’t even think he woke up for this at all. So, of course, I threw the pillow back at W. W launched one again at Rocky’s head and this time I blocked it and screamed ‘STOP ABUSING YOUR DOG!’ Rocky snored.

This pillow fight devolved into lots of pillows being thrown at Rocky’s head with super elaborate blocks and throw backs and W adding tricky counter throws and MAN it got complicated and exciting and it was PILLOW WAR!!

The other thing you have to understand is that this fight was from our L sectional with W on one side and me defending (still snoring) Rocky on the other. Pillows were flying OVER our coffee table that was full of various drinks including my home made berry milk (I didn’t want hot coacoa because the chocolate would keep me awake). The other thing you have to understand is that we keep our computers on the lower shelf of the coffee table. The final thing you have to understand is that I killed W’s computer last year–well I had nothing to do with its death but it died on my watch and NOTHING was recoverable and I felt/feel sooooooo bad about it.

The inevitable happened. I blocked W’s throw with a throw of my own and the pillows slammed into the berry milk and splashed it across the living room and all over W’s gorgeous, brand new, mac book pro. We both froze for a sec then I ran to grab towels and W lifted up his poor baby (the laptop not Rocky). We mopped everything up–twice, berry milk can be sticky and luckily the macbook was aok! Phew! Rocky was still snoring.

The lesson: don’t get into pillow fights when you are 32 years old–your shit is too expensive! OR if you do, make sure all expensive stuff is out of the room and you might as well move all the sentimental breakables too.

 

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