FAT CALIPERS? WTF?

Trudy, they do make diapers for incontinent dogs. I saw some called Peepers while I was trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do.

The thought of changing a dog's diapers in addition to the 8-10 diapers I already change a day makes me what to cry. We'll most likely muddle through until after New Year's at least before I make any decision about Mac. I can keep her in the laundry room most of the day (she really just sleeps 90 % of her day away now, anyway).

Left a message for my neuro specialist. Waiting for a call back. I'll have to go in to see her and she'll look at the MRI and give me a number to call for a surgeon.

And Owen's little, plastic Stitch doll almost died a gruesome death this morning. He put him in the microwave--he didn't get to melt him before I discovered what he was doing. The microwave stays unplugged until an adult has to use it for now.

I am stunned at your DH, Raq. I agree with Cindy: has he met a woman? Ever? Sheesh. He's being an utter dumbass.

So my work internet has gone all spotty, but I am thwarting it through the use of my phone. Muwahahahahaha.

Well heck. I just went from zero to DO AS I SAY NOW ASSERTIVE on someone over the phone. Regarding work stuff. I had three folks come over and applaud when I hung up.

Not sure where that came from.

FAT CALIPERS? WTF?

Yeah, that. Son's coach does that stuff. He is like 3% or something. Jock. I told him the words fat percentage and mom do not belong in the same sentence. He usually gets when I am absolute about something.

I can see my husband demanding to use the fat calipers on me, though he'd phrase it because he's passionately interested in my health and he needs this information. I can also see a big fight when I refuse.

Fat calipers.

Fat calipers.

FAT CALIPERS??

You should take them and measure his fat head.

Agreed with everyone on the insanity of the fat calipers. DH needs some schooling on womenfolk.

Fat calipers? FAT CALIPERS? Take out a ruler and tell him you need to measure his dick.

Or, y'know, not.

Fat calipers? FAT CALIPERS?! I ... nope, no words, just blinking (and angry on your behalf) confusion.

Kara's been wanting a bunny. She's getting one. It's about a half inch tall with a bobble head.

Kara wants a bunny, huh? Clovis just waggled his ears in glee, so I think he's plotting something.

All of you suffering Cramps O' Doom have my sympathy, and I wish I could send you all a box of Feminax. (The UK version of Midol, which blessedly contains codeine.) Mind you, I almost think I'd rather have Cramps O' Doom instead of the crying meltdown I had last night. I suspect the hormonal mood-swings are getting worse.

Upon further reflection on the Great Fat Calipers Fiasco of 2006, I feel Raq's DH requires a warning of things not to say.

Things Raq's DH Should Not Say To Her

"Honey, can you count the lines around your eyes? We've got new imaging software at work and I want to see what you'll look like in five years."

"Oh never mind about that line count. I took a picture of you in harsh unflattering light with the high def camera while you were sleeping and I've forwarded it to my secretary. She'll count the lines for you and then forward it to the lab."

"Wow, that haircut was a real mistake, huh?"

"Is your painful and debilitating crotch ailment fixed yet? My sexual needs haven't been met lately."

"Do we really need to pack up all these old beautiful dresses for the move? Are you really ever going to be able to fit into them again?"

"Hey, remember when you were cute? I was just reminded because I'm going to be judging a wet t-shirt contest after work."