"Oh my God, I'm gonna die. My cheeks hurt!"

That's what one of my favorite kids said to me today after we laughed hysterically for twenty minutes over stupid shit. It's rare moments like those that make me semi-quasi glad that I work for a non-profit organization. It was worth it for her to go from her cheeks hurting, to saying her lungs were going to pop, to saying her brain was going to erupt.

Luckily, none of the above happened. I could just imagine the look of disappointment on her Mom's face when I would have to tell her that I just broke her kid.

Balls.

I really should be getting to bed soon. I have to take DJ Rumpshaker to the groomer's tomorrow for her Holiday Hosedown, then have to finish some insane Christmas shopping. However, I still find myself in front of this blogdoggery, typing away and listening to the latest episode of Mauryplaying in the background.

I swear, if it wasn't for my DVR, I wouldn't watch even a fraction of all the WT glory that I do. Nor would I get to watch all those Golden Girls episodes in rapid succession. I heart my DVR.

Okay, I'm getting out of my tree now. Going to bed, and praying I don't wake up with a furry, slobbering canine hat in the morning.