I wish I was witty

I wish I was a witty blog writer. I visit some of the blogs of the celebrities of scrapbooking and they are so witty and fun. It's like having a conversation with them. On the other hand, I just blather on and on about nothing in particular. I would like to be a snappy author like Dave Barry or Bill Bryson. Man, are they funny. (Book recommendation: "A Walk in the Woods" and "The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid" by Bill Bryson. All thumbs up).

I need need kids. Preferably my own. Because then I could flex my wit by writing about their daily adventures. I love our pets...but let's face it -- they don't do a whole lot differently from day to day. I guess now I could talk about how Baxter (my mom & dad's dog) is staying with us while my folks are out discovering the world. As a 10-year old "senior," he has started to lose his hearing. But we think he's faking it. He responds well to certain words: food, out, walk. Yet, he miraculously ignores the rest. He's working us over. Plus he has these big, soft eyes that he has used to his advantage over the years. Ah yes...he knows how to fool the stupid humans (read: Eric and I) who fall for his beguiling looks. He even gets so bold as to plop his head down on the chair when we have a snack so as to further the pity. He usually wins. One of his finer qualities is his superior bladder control. Lily is totally special needs compared to him in this department (well...most departments for that matter). But even in the best of man's best friends there must be a weakest link...his is his sensitive gut. He barfs up approximately every third meal we feed him. He also barfs up pretty much everything else that goes down his hatch. I thought dogs could eat bacteria infested roadkill and still come out on top. Guess not him...what a diva. But we love him anyway, the big dummy.