We had some strangeness in our home last night.   At 4 o'clock in the morning my Gram came running over to our house from her apartment.    It seems that the alarming news about smoking was going off in our office, our garage and my Gram's bedroom.      My Dad went zipping to the rescue.  Good thing too, because in addition to a high shreaking sound coming from everywhere, Bob was sitting on the bed shaking like a bowl of melting jello, whining pathetically and being totally useless in trying to protect my Gram or his brother and sister, Rusty and Scarlett.

Bob is NOT a Super-Hero, by a long shot.    Bob is afraid of  his own shadow and of course this sets a bad example for poor little Rusty and Scarlett who thought they were going to get a wonderfully strong big brother and what did they wind up with?  The Cowardly Lion.    And he is dumb.   

Please don't misunderstand me.  I love Bob very much.  All of us living in my home love Bob very much.   There is probably not a person alive who does not love Bob very much.    It is impossible not to fall head over tin-cups for him.    And remember.  He is gorgeous.

However, like many gorgeous men, he is short on brains and his nerves are shot.

Poor Bob.

By the way.  My Dad fixed the smoking alarm problem and it was not my Gram's fault.   My Gram has, as she says, a lot of bad habits, but at least smoking objects are not one of them.

Does anyone have any nerve glue?   Maybe we could fix up Bob.

Love,
Princess Daisy