A Briggs Story Best Left Untold

Note: The events described in this post actually went down last week, but I didn’t get a chance to publish it before our family camping trip, so here it is now.

Okay. This post is a total vent. So feel free to bail right now if you don’t wanna hear me bellyache. Oh. And if you have a weak stomach, you’re seriously in the wrong place. Leave. Immediately. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

So I get home from work a couple of days ago, and I smell something that’s all too familiar in my household.

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Another Happy Birthday

Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.

That’s right. Just days after we celebrated Grand Finale’s birthday, it’s time to celebrate yet another. And no, it’s not Alli’s, as the above picture might suggest. Nope, today’s birthday belongs to another girl. But not Kirby. Because then that’d mean that Sam and Jack would also be celebrating a birthday today, and they’re not. And it’s not my birthday. Nor is it the birthday of our faithful hound, Briggs. So that just leaves one person.

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