Remember when I said that my childhood self totally planned to marry Speed Racer when I grew up?
Well, Friday night the incomparable Izzybella and L-2 went to a movie together. And they got me a poster for the new Speed Racer movie! Woot! It’s hanging on a wall in my office where I can see it all the time.
Anyone wanna join me Friday night? ‘Cause on account of you know where I’ll be. 
Okay, changing subject but still on topic, my dogs love me. I’m not sure, though, how much of this is love and how much is competition between each other. See, pre-Scout, Molly never slept with me. Oh, sure, she’d hop up on the bed with me for a while, get some loves, enjoy some Mommy-and-me time, and then she’d either scoot under the bed or go sleep on the couch. But Scout is firmly convinced that his nighttime place is wherever I happen to be.
And I haven’t bought a new futon mattress yet. I can’t get it until this weekend. This means that I’ve been sleeping on the couch. It’s a comfy couch, but it’s not deep and wide. Basically there’s room for me to lie on the couch, and that’s about it. But Molly claims her spot on the end of the couch, and Scout claims his spot behind the backs of my knees. Honestly, that doesn’t leave me a whole lotta room! I’m just sayin’.
And I’ve tried routing Molly off, so that Scout wouldn’t want up, but that doesn’t work. He genuinely feels he must sleep with me. And she’ll occasionally get down, albeit whilst giving me dirty looks the whole time, but once he’s settled in, she hops back up.
Aargh!
We have a hideous mattress in the master bedroom, and it’s not overly comfortable. Not to me, anyway–Mom likes it when she’s in town. And we no longer have a frame for that bed. We’ve put off getting one until we replaced the whole shebang, and since Joe’s gone so much of the time, the futon and/or sofa have been working just fine. Right now the mattress set is perched atop 4 buckets of wheat (well, food storage has to go somewhere!), only it keeps sliding off one of them. So Izzy’s going to come over this evening and help me maneuver the mattress set off the wheat buckets and just lay it on the floor. It’s a queen size mattress, which is even larger than the futon, so I figure there should be enough room for me, Molly, and Scout. And Joe, when he gets home on Thursday.
So on the one hand, I feel very, very loved by my dogs, even though part of it–at least on Molly’s part–is sheer competitiveness. On the other hand, I feel so cramped at night!
And speaking of the competitiveness between the dogs, Molly’s started a bad habit. Pre-Scout, I’d give her a treat, and she’d take it gently between her teeth. No fear on my part. But he will take stuff right out of her mouth, so she’s started eagerly snapping at the treats, which leaves me in fear for the safety of my limbs. I’ve got to remember to lay them on my palms so they can take them from me without having to snap. And Molly’s started getting even with Scout. Any time he carelessly leaves a treat laying around, she’ll go pick it up and take it off. He gets even with her getting even with him by taking her toys. It’s so funny–we’ll have several toys on the floor, and they both bicker over the same toy. If Scout doesn’t have the giant multi-coloured caterpillar, Molly doesn’t want it. But let him pick it up, and she’ll sit there and glare at him until he goes off for a drink of water or to give me a kiss, and then it’s in her mouth faster than you can blink.
They’re just like toddlers! I swear! I haven’t worked in the church nursery in many years, but I distinctly remember a 3-year-old boy hitting a 2-year-old girl over the head with a plastic firetruck because she had a toy he wanted.
