Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Someone Spiked My Drinks
There is no other way to explain the major attack of shpilkes I had last night. It was insane. I was running laps around the coffee table like Emerson Fittipaldi at Le Mans.
I was playing manically with Enchilada until we tore the leg off poor Roberto, Ronaldo or Rigoberto, whatever his name is, The Frog. I was chomping on any nose on my radar, biting anything that moved. I put my head inside a stinky sneaker. I had what they call my cara de loca, my crazy face on.
The human theories abounded:
She's just happy because the 100 degree heat is down.
The noise from the TV set drives her crazy.
She hates Jazz (not all of it).
She is teething.
She's happy about her new food.
There is something weird in the new food.
She snorted coke somewhere.
She's having like a teenage moment.
She is going crazy and there is nothing we can do to stop it.
And then as quickly as it came, I crashed, all my energy depleted like an empty battery. It left my body like a ghost. Today, I could not get up, just like after a major party binge!
Now I'm back to being a little angel.
Who knows what will happen next... Muahahaha!