A Michael Myers to Cuddle.

I know it wasn’t my birthday, but Bill and Jessi had a present waiting for me at Chooch’s party.  Because they know I was probably petrifying from the inside out, having to watch my kid get all the attention instead of me. (I’m a Leo. We like our attention. In fact, there are things here at work called “Attention Required” and I often think the stamp should just say “ERK.” Those are my initials. Now you know, in case you wanted to order me something monogrammed from Sky Mall.)

It’s OK though, because Chooch’s birthday party means that Bill and Jessi will come visit from Michigan, so I’m alright with giving him his own day. Besides, I had more friends there than he did, so I win.

(It just occured to me that maybe this is one of the reasons my co-worker Sean just asked me who I’m referring to on Facebook when I say “Chooch.” He seemed surprised that’s my son’s nickname and said he assumed it must have been my brother. BECAUSE I AM SO COMPETITIVE WITH HIM.

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As usual, I’m typing way more than I intended to, which will just give one of those Blog Frog broads more reason to tell me that people don’t read my blog because my posts are too long. (True story, happened last night.

Thanks for the feedback, ho-bag.

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My present was a Michael Myers plushie. Michael is my BOY. I have very strong feelings for him. In fact, back when Henry was “courting” me, he bought me several pieces of Halloween memorabilia until he eventually whittled down my defenses and look at me now. LOOK AT ME NOW.

LOOK BEHIND YOU, DANDELION!!

He’s so hot.

Chillin’ with Don, watching “Desperate Housewives.”

Tonight, he’s at work with me. I’m trying to convince him that one of the sea monkeys is not Laurie Strode.

God, I’m so smitten.