I don’t wanna say that I don’t trust Bumble.
Well, yes I do.
I DON’T TRUST BUMBLE.
Seeing him sitting quietly on top of hubby’s cup while waving both the American and Army flag makes me kinda nervous. What’s he really up to?
Anyone have night vision cameras we can borrow?
So. Here it is, December 1 again.
It’s the day the creepy af elves “fly” down from the North Pole to spy on kids for Santa so he knows who’s getting a bag of long grain rice in their stocking. Not that there’s anything wrong with Uncle Ben’s, mind you. I just imagine somewhere, some kid is gonna scream bloody murder if there is rice in their stocking.
Can…someone do that and report back to me? Let me know how that goes?
When the little creepy af elves come back to town, so does Naughty Bumble.
Our so I thought.
I woke up expecting something to be broken into, destroyed, mangled…something…but everything was perfect. The house looked just as I’d left it the night before. (Messy)
There was no Bumble to be found! Did he leave us? Go shack up with some North Pole bimbo that works, well, the pole?
Nope. The lazy bastard was still in his box. Sleeping.
Of course he was. I’m actually a little jealous.
It’s December! Let the Bumbling begin!
Bumble has eluded me for almost two days. I finally located him, and I’m still scratching my head about it.
The other day at CVS, I saw one of those head massager things. Do you know of these? They look like a metal whisk that got busted at the bottom and the law prongs dipped in plastic. Kinda scary looking to be honest, but they feel ah-maaaaazing. I purr like a cat if my husband takes pity on me and massages my scalp.
Apparently Bumble found it and tried to massage his wee furry head.
He looks stupid.
You know how it is – long day, you’re dead tired and just want to go crash in the bed. You’re dreaming of that perfect spot where you find both warmth and coolness in the sheets. You walk into the bedroom, kick of your shoes, dress for bed, SO ready to dive in…
…only there’s a furry little bastard already in your spot!
At times, I annoy my husband with my Pinteresting.
Christmas is one of those times.
So I made these huge red snowflakes out of jumbo popsicle sticks a few years ago, and every year I hang one on each door in the house. They make a clackity-clack noise every time you open or shut the door which drives him bananas.
Apparently it’s driving Bumble crazy as well, because it seems he was attempting to remove one and got hung up.
Serves him right.
You don’t mess with a woman’s decorations.