Moth says....

The very exciting news is that Moth has read my blog. The downside is that he's not happy, not happy at all.

Apparently, as I was searching for a suitable acronym for my beloved for the purposes of this blog, I neglected to consider that I am absolutely terrified of moths. Everyone in my family knows this and stands ready to rescue me should one charge (flutter towards my face). Let's not even talk about the time when I put the sun visor down in the car and there was one on it. We looked at each other in horror for about 15 seconds and then he charged. Now I know why people crash into open air markets or beauty salons, or run over old ladies in crosswalks. They're busy screaming and trying to get the moth out of their nose.

At any rate, my beloved had a valid point and so.... dunt dunt duuuuuuh! [Formal Announcement Music] he is no long the Moth, the bane of my existence, my dreaded tormentor for all time, that hairy legged interloper (although... if the leg hair fits). Henceforth he will be known by that very affectionate nickname that we assigned him early on in our marriage.... The Old Goat or TOG.

Ironic, is it not, that I was writing about goats yesterday and their function.

More later today... just catching up from last night.