Pepper spray and fireball

Lots to say today since I’ve been hosting a (several) moment(s) of silence for no reason besides busyness (typical American excuse)…

Things are pretty much exactly the same as they were when I last wrote.

For instance, Tory still torments Lucy for the hell of it.

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It’s still hilarious.

Lucy and Molly are still a united front against all things dog.

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Tory still struggles to fit her whole tongue in her mouth.

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Abbey still watches silly television programming in our house. We allow it because she pays rent.

While watching Dancing with the Stars this evening:

*announcer announces something that I guess was groundbreaking, revolutionary, etc.*

Abbey: WOW SHOCKINGGGGG

Megan: *type type type as though nothing happened*

Abbey: Megan, I wish you cared a little bit more.

Megan: *type type type as though nothing happened*

 

In recent news and events, it is my birthday week, which I share with both my brothers. Naturally we took the time to pose for a classic family photo complete with inappropriate hand signals courtesy of my twin.

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My younger brother often seduces the camera with his eyes like that…it’s nothing special. Don’t get sucked in, because he has the best girlfriend in the whole world, and I have an unhealthy attachment to their relationship.

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I made them stand there for a good long time while snapping 50-something of these babies.

The highlight was definitely last night at the annual birthday dinner celebration. I was overshadowed often by my brothers (like my childhood. JK, MOM, DON’T FREAK OUT) in conversation, so most of my hilarious one-liners were barely heard by anyone except Casey who politely chuckled to himself and wondered why on earth he didn’t marry ANYONE ANYONE ANYONE else in the entire world.

Evidence below:

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Is he about to laugh or cry? SEE THAT’S THE QUESTION! That’s the face of some serious regret.

He was feeling a whole lot better about the situation BEFORE the dinner.

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See? The dog looks adoringly upon the happy couple whilst they’re photographed in conflicting patterned shirts.

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Overwhelmed with happiness, because he has momentarily forgotten what a dinner with my family is like.

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All jokes aside (but not for long), the dinner was actually PERFECT thanks to my mom’s brilliant birthday-dinner planning skills. She’s done this thing for 26 years, and she’s totally perfected the art. However, she’d still rather show you the sideĀ of her head than the front of her face. I can only assume she had a traumatic experience with the paparazzi at some point early in her childhood that made her so terrified of being photographed. NOTE: Matthew, again with the hand signals…

Sentimental gifts were exchanged. I bought my brothers both shirts from their favorite stores. They bought me:

Pepper spray (love, John).

Fireball (love, Matthew).

With my new powers combined, I feel ready to both party all night long and also stop anyone who tries to get in my way.

But, instead I will most likely do what I do best: cuddle with kittens.

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