Last night the kids spent the night with Gramalie. Kathy and I took advantage of the evening to go on a date! We went to see Postcards from the Edge, a pertinent mother-daughter film that we both enjoyed. Then we drove up and down Buford highway looking for a place to eat. Found some great food and atmosphere for very little booty at the Rusty Nail.
A small deck of Baby Boomer Trivial Pursuit cards were on the table, so we quized each other over dinner. Kathy won 13 to 12. We decided that we are late bloomers for boomers because we didn’t know many of the answers.
Then we drove up and down Peachtree Street looking for action. Not a lot to be found. Headed down to Underground and found even less. Wandered into Fat Tuesday’s and felt like uninvited guests in the largely black, male crowd. So we headed back up to Buckhead for a sure thing at the Dessert Place.
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Today Michelle arrived from Ft. Lauderdale with her diseased poodle and wounded Cockateel. Baby, the poodle, had dry scalp on his underside, so he would stick his back legs out behind him and drag himself around like a paralyzed soldier in battle. Only, his tail would wag.
The bird had a bleeding wing. Michelle had to come to an abrupt stop and the bird’s cage fell on top of him. Seems the bird and dog were chasing each other around in the van.
The dog reportedly had turned gray and the bird had turned yellow due to the shock of the whole trip. The bird started out gray, you see, so one wonders about the eventual color of the poodle.
She left an hour later (about nine hours ago), mad that Kathy wouldn’t allow crying during the Christmas holidays. We have not seen or heard from her since. The bird and a blow dryer are still here. It may be the bird’s blow dryer.
Danny did not want the bird to sleep in his room. He was afraid that it might turn into a monster. I assured him that it was only a little bird and that is all it would be.
Nicole and Danny’s zoo now features a Gray Cockateel turned yellow and a thriving ant farm. (The ants finally came yesterday.)