Yesterday I turned 25. Gulp. I know that's not old, but when I start thinking how it feels like only yesterday that I was 15 learning how to parallel park and if 10 years can really go that quickly then I'll be 35 then 45 and so on and so on.
Oh and in those 10 years I still cannot parallel park.
But it's been a wonderful 25 years and I can't wait to explore the next 25.
And to celebrate my birthday pug caught bronchitis.
He sounded like a cross between a goose and a heavy smoker. It was pitiful. So pitiful that the vet called me today just to make sure he was recovering because he left quite an impression on the hearts of the nurses. He does have a way with the ladies. But he's almost back to normal after a day taking his better-be-made-of-gold-because-they-cost-an-arm-and-a-leg antibiotics. And during his impromptu vet appointment we were informed that pug has gained some extra poundage.
He's disputing these allegations.
But look there's the muffin top.
"What a muffin? Where's the muffin?"
I had to break it to him that the treats are not going to be falling from the sky like they used too.