Mom has taken to waiting until Andrew is out and then coming in to talk to me. Well, she says she wants to talk to the cats, and before I know it the cats are being told how my brother is screwing up now, or getting a litany of things my father has done lately. At least she tells them they're cute. Anyway, now, apparently, my brother feels that by buying him a house Mom and Dad pushed him out. Bentley's answer was to roll on his back and try to look cuter. Puck just glared at her for interrupting his nap. Puck is officially a teenager, I guess. He has the glare down pat. He could out glare a whole lunchroom of seventh graders. I'm starting to realize that it's a good thing I'm married, otherwise I'd surely be edging into crazy catlady territory.
In other news, I've decided to the Boobie-Thon this year. I forget why I didn't last year, but I'm doing it now! Yay boobs! And double yay for keeping boobs cancer free! Stupid cancer. My maternal grandmother survived her breast cancer (but not her diabetes), but I lost a paternal aunt to it. Breast cancer is a topic near and dear to my own boobs. I'm debating trying to put together a donation thing, like if I hit a certain ammount I'll shave my head. Or maybe I'll put two up, donate for me to keep my hair or donate to see me shave it, and then whichever ammount is higher will be the winning option. I think my mom will be donating to see me shave it, though she might throw a couple of bucks at not in the end. We'll see. My biggest concern about shaving my head is how much I know I will look like my brother. Everything else I can deal with. Well, possibly not the big red circle birthmark I have on the back of my head, which my brother also has, because the last thing a bald girl needs is a target.
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