Where I am Regarded as Entertaining.

I have some cute stories of my dog that I could graciously share.
I also have those wonderfully incriminating childhood bladder stories.

Whilst in thought last night, I had the realization that there is a wealth of amusement in my toddlerdom. I was the youngest of four very different girls. It's not that we're all 'weird'; we just has vastly different personalities. The eldest of us is a fiery brunette who is 'one of the guys' and has no shyness in talking about anything really. She's funny.

The next is a Susie-Homemaker who adores conversation about budgets, making pasta from SCRTCH, and news today. She's funny.

Right before me, is the diva kindergarten teacher who could be summed up by saying she has an almost non-platonic crush on Jane Austen's literature. She's funny.

Then is me. My mom always called me her 'Breath of Fresh Air'. She finds me refreshing because I'm the weirdo of her kids (not the obscene one, or the one who knits her own headbands, and certainly not the one who relates personally to Fanny Price). Aside from weird, she calls me morbid and the only one who laughs at my Dad's jokes. And in most documented photos of me - especially those for the holiday keepsake photos - I am the one making a non-generic smile. I was born to make dumb faces.

Between my sisters and I and our collective efforts of giving my dad grey hair before he was 30, I probably have a lot to talk about.

My dog isn't the only interesting thing in my life. My parents are also funny people. I'm not one of those people who can relish in their time with friends. I didn't go to parties. I didn't do anything. I was somewhat reclusive when highschool came to a close. I really only talk with Non-Dog BFF and her family.

But really, I could just tell a thousand different stories about how creative I was when I peed my pants as a kid. Pun intended, they're juicy stories.