| Angela grew up ( @ 2008-10-22 20:13:00 |
| Current mood: | |
| Entry tags: | dad, family, kirby, mom, papa |
Like father, like daughter, like cockatiel
I neglected to mention the funny from when my grandfather visited. He stayed for a couple hours and did much of the talking--which at one point turned to our "fondling fathers." Uh, what? And he's not even Catholic.
Then today my mother calls and says she's going to be working late--she literally just walked in the door--but she can't talk long because she's in the bathroom and she's "gotta go--in more ways than one." Um, thanks.
Not to leave my own father out, we saw a teaser on the news about women with sexual dysfunction and how some sort of gel is helping them out. I asked dad if I should share my thoughts with him and he said, uh, no.
Because I know you're curious: What, is it made by KY?
(See, it wasn't that bad.)
And then there's my lovely little bird. Since adding the perch covers and ladder to his cage, he's gotten slightly more adventurous with the stuff I bought back in May. He's actually nibbled on the treat boxes, and today I saw him not once, but three times, go over and touch his hanging bell with his beak. Hee hee! Good bird. Well, except when I go to pet him and I end up with beak marks on my fingers. At least he didn't draw blood. Or, erm, at least the blood didn't gush.