Yes, six short days ago, I was reveling in his cuteness, but that was before the sleep deprivation kicked in. This little fella has determined that the hours between two and six a.m. are not at all meant for sleeping. Not when one could fling a giant bone against the sides of his crate and whimper and cry at the top of his little canine lungs. Earplugs can only do so much. It got so bad at one point that I got up at 4:00 a.m., got in the car, and drove the ten minutes to my house to sleep in my own bed for five hours because if I didn’t, there was going to be one fewer boxers in this world.
I was so looking forward to going to bed at 9:00 tonight, but I got a phone call from the pups’ owners this morning and apparently they got hung up in the snow storm that dumped on Denver yesterday and won’t be getting home until the wee hours Wednesday morning, so I’m on monster duty for another 36 hours.
Pray for me.
We spent last night watching the Super Bowl (oh, how I love Peyton [yes, I mean Peyton] Manning) and working on Wicked. I forgot to take pictures of her, so I’ll try to remember tonight. I wasn’t overly bowled over by the commercial selection this year. My top 3 were, in no particular order: the Carville/Frist ad for Coke [part of it was filmed on my block]; the Planters Cashews ad; and the Budweiser ad with the Dalmatian training Hank the Clydesdale to make the team (honorable mention to the baby E*Trade ads & the Bud Light cavemen). For the full spread of ads, you can check out MySpace.