Dirty Andy hasn't really been around much lately, so I've not had any good stories to tell. But he's been busy, all right, so without further ado, here's a little background.
I'm not going to sugarcoat it. Dirty Andy tucks his shirt into his underwear. I know. I know!
Yesterday we went to Home Depot to buy all those terribly non-exciting, but essential, things that we need for the house. You know, electrical plugs, switches, switch plates, heating system vents, light bulbs, vanity lights, canned lighting, and ... toilets.
Yesterday morning as I'm "helping" (read being accused of ripping out by the roots) Katie with her hair before school, the following conversation took place:
ME: Yes? (Because she can never just carry on without an affirmative response, even though we're the only two people in a six-foot square room.)
KATIE: You know how when a buffalo gets hurt, like stabbed with a spear or something, and they go down and all the other buffalo stomp on them, trying to get them to get up, like they're protecting them or something?
ME: Uh ... yeah? (I don't know that, but why start an argument at 7:00 in the morning?)
KATIE: So when the Indians stabbed a whole bunch of them at the same time, were the rest of the herd all taking turns stomping on the hurt ones, trying to get them up?
ME: Uh ... I'd guess probably so, sure.
KATIE: Well, how'd the Indians get those buffalo to get out of there so they could get the dead ones and make food?
ME: Uh ... I think they had some on horses and some on foot and they all ran in there whooping and hollering and waving their hands and making lots of noise to scare the non-hurt ones off.
(Several seconds of dead silence.)
KATIE: Don't the Canadians still do that?
I'm still going to write in this thing, I swear. It's just been busier than all get out this last week with working on the house, school starting, and so on, I now have a Photobucket account, even though I've not uploaded any pics to it, so at least I'm one step closer to getting pics on here.