It's been quite a week.
First, my dear Krog got carved on again.
He's still alive, possibly because he's too surly to die.
I brought him home on Thanksgiving, just in time for a marvelous feast.
I didn't cook a bit of it. That's why we planned his surgery at such a highly inconvenient time-- so I could get some work done at the hospital and then stuff my belly.
And then today, to surprise the guy who can barely hobble out of bed, I took the kids out in the rain to buy an enormous Christmas tree.
Yeah, I didn't totally think that one through.
But I managed to wrestle the monster off the car, inside the house, and into the tree stand, all while wearing jeggings and high-heeled pirate boots. And then I decorated it with my kids, which is a little like giving some trained rats a jewelry box and a bag of chewed up bubble gum and just throwing crap until it sticks.
This year's tree theme is "Red, White, and Crap", by the way.
So after all that, I gathered up the wee scamps and took pictures that we'll treasure forever, mostly of t.rex getting annoyed and throwing little gold apples at The Biscuit because she kept calling him Bumblebee Baby Bear and he kept saying COOKIE, but all I heard was DOOKY.
And then I went to upload the photos of all these wonderful things onto my laptop, and guess what happened?
A whole lotta nothing.
My laptop and camera are apparently having some sort of 13-year-old girl fight where they stand there, touching each other, refusing to admit that the other exists.
In between the post-holiday children, the tree, the camera, and the requests for club sandwiches, my head almost blew up this afternoon. I swear.
But I did take one last picture for you.
Because I care.