Bret Michaels Would Do the Same if Anyone Chopped Off His Extensions

Cody may only be five months old, but he's ahead of the Toddler on one thing--little dude can grow some hair. Like, a LOT of hair. So, last Saturday we took him for his very first hair cut.

We tend to like long-haired dogs best when they are left long-haired, so the idea was less about cutting back the major 80's poof he was rocking and more about doing a little trimmy trimmy here and there so that he would get the experience of having his hair cut. He is in for a life time of grooming appointments, so it's better that he starts getting used to the idea of a stranger with clippers hanging out around his nether regions sooner rather than later. Mr. Husband informed the groomer that she should just pluck the forest he was growing inside his ears, trim up his paws, clean up around his eyes, and maybe shave his booty region for cleanliness reasons.

I know that is what Mr. Husband said because I heard him. Definitely.

That didn't stop the chick from going all Edward Scissorhands on his ass. And head. And back. And everywhere in between. Poor little guy is half the man he was just a few days ago, mostly because she cut off at least two inches of fluff.

Not only was I all sorts of sad face over it, Mr. Husband was, too. In fact, he might be more sad face over it. He keeps fussing at Cody to hurry up and grow back his hair. He really does look awful. As Mr. Husband said, he looks like that scruffy dog an old lady would have if she also had 32 cats. Sort of mutt-like, but too scraggly to even be a mutt, and at first glance, you're not even sure it's a dog.

Cody has apparently taken this criticism very hard. He seemed all happy go lucky at first, but this morning? He totally fell into a deep depression. So deep, in fact, that he thought the only way out of his bad hair month (or two or three) was to just end it all. So, he decided not to chew his treat and managed to lodge the whole damn thing in his throat.

And choke.

And choke.

What Cody forgot to consider was that Mr. Husband has already once saved the suicidal pup's life. And, he did it again this morning. In what can only be called an act of heroics, Mr. Husband shoved his finger down the pup's throat until he puked. It was like an episode of America's Top Model all over our bedroom floor. So fun!

So if you see Cody wandering around town, do us a favor and LIE TO HIM. Tell him he looks great and that you love the new hair cut. I can't take another day of him being all dramatic and whiny because his throat hurts.

(He's fine, btw. I might have to talk to the Academy about honoring him with an Oscar for the acting performance he put on when I checked on him at lunch when he tried to convince me he was dying. Dying pups don't make me insane chasing the other dog around the living room for 45 minutes.)

(Pre-Edward Scissorhands photo, of course. Poor little guy refuses to let me capture his embarrassment digitally.)

Alexis 2008 Performance Appraisal

Goal: Learn to run without wagging butt like a dog.
Performance: I think it's time that we just come to terms with the fact that Alexis is always going to run like a girlie girl. It just is, so she should go ahead and shake that booty.
2009 Goal: Shake that booty and then shake it some more.

Goal: Try consuming a bite or two of birthday cake.
Performance: Not good. Despite two opportunities to consume birthday cake, Alexis did not eat a single bite.
2009 Goal: Try to at least sit in the same room as the birthday cake without turning into a puddle of tears.

Goal: Grow some hair on top of her head.
Performance: Also not good. The mullet is alive and well, and it lives atop Alexis' head.
2009 Goal: Grow some hair on top of her head. (It can't hurt to keep trying.)

Goal: Try to convince parents to make a return trip to Walt Disney World for the purpose of meeting Mickey Mouse.
Performance: Recent attempts to con parents into going to see the castle and Mickey are beginning to wear on them. No success yet, but she is getting close.
2009 Goal: Keep trying. Rumor has it the mother-type figure has a conference in Orlando in the Spring that may work as a leveraging tool.

Goal: Resemble Mom just a tiny bit.
Performance: When that goal was set, the idea was for Alexis to display some blue eyes, or perhaps some long legs. It was NOT to take her hair but stay ALL Daddy other than that. Mission complete, but handled all wrong.
2009 Goal: Give up on looking like Mom and switch to having Daddy's hair.

Goal: Drop the kids off in the pool.
Performance: Alexis has demonstrated that she is completely capable of using the porcelain throne for its intended purpose. However, she is frequently "too busy" to actually do it. The kids are still being dropped in all the wrong places.
2009 Goal: Diaper-free by her birthday. Or else.

Goal: Stay in her own bed.
Performance: Epic. Fail. The number of times the kid has actually stayed in her own bed this year can be counted without even taking off a shoe.
2009 Goal: Stay in her own bed. Again. The parental units are currently making plans to create a cage over the bed (aka "tent") and are not above using multiple padlocks in order to ensure a good night's sleep. Or two.

Goal: Keep melting Mom's heart with just a glance
Performance: Mission complete.
2009 Goal: Keep on keeping on.

(Yes, Alexis, I know this is a few days late compared to last year's. You live with me, so I shouldn't even need to explain. Get used to the late thing. It is, in great part, your fault anyway.)

I'm Sure We Could Have Fun With Belle's Name

Back in the Stone Ages (otherwise known as college) I worked at Walt Disney World. It was only for a semester, and it was part of something called the College Program. Disney trolls colleges and universities nationwide a few times a year in search of moron college students dumb enough to work crap jobs for barely more than minimum wage. In exchange for a lifetime of debt, the students get to attend classes at Disney University and, well, live at Disney World.

Part of the program includes an introduction to the inner workings of all of the parks, so during cast member orientation, they took us to the Magic Kingdom for a tour of the tunnels. If you didn't know, the castle and other parts of Disney World that you see when you visit are technically the second story of a very large building. Below "street" level is a series of concrete hallways knows as the tunnels.

The tunnels aren't very exciting. Literally, they're just concrete hallways with walls painted different colors so that you know which part of the park your currently under. The idea is that someone who works in Frontierland shouldn't be seen in full costume walking around in Tomorrowland, so there are exits from the tunnels all over the place, and you just follow the color-coding to figure out when it's safe to go up.

At the center of the tunnels is Character Alley. It's the place where all the people who "fortunate" enough to get paid to stomp around dressed as a Disney character get to hang out. They work incredibly crappy hours (just because you only see them in the Magic Kingdom for 15-30 minutes at a time doesn't mean they are doing something fun the rest of the 12+ hours they sometimes work). They are not allowed to wear the costumes home, or even to remove them from the premises. So, they hang out down there where the costumes are stored.

I have two very distinct memories of run-ins at Character Alley. The first was that day of cast member orientation and involves a fellow College Program person. He was a guy from Alabama, and I don't really know what he expected, but he quite literally freaked the hell out when he saw Winnie the Pooh walking around without a head. Like, FREAKED OUT. He was scarred from the experience, and talked about it pretty much every day from that day forward.

The second memory came as we were leaving. Character Alley is a short jaunt from the main entrance to the tunnels, so many of the characters will wander over that way for a little fresh air. As my little group walked out of the concrete maze, Cinderella sat on a bench just outside the door. She was done up in full character garb--perfect dress, perfect hair, and perfect makeup. Also perfect? The amazing litany of four-letter words that were falling from her mouth as she sucked on a cigarette. For the cynic that is me, it was HYSTERICAL. The pretty little princess was far from what she appeared to be, and she even taught me some new curse words. So. Awesome.

I ran into that same Cinderella some time later while visiting my roommate's boyfriend at his apartment. He was a Green Army Man (Toy Story) and one of the dancing hippos in the Fantasia parade, so he obviously knew all the characters. Cinderella REALLY did look exactly like her character, so it wasn't hard to spot her. It also wasn't hard to smell her. Can we say, "chain smoker?" Oh. my. hell. The woman must have smoked three packs a day, and her bright blond hair was more pungent than a Yankee Candle.

So, I think I have a very valid excuse for nearly falling over into a fit of giggles when Alexis recently changed Cinderella's name. I'm pretty sure she used to pronounce it correctly, but recently she's added a few letters. I can guarantee it is Mr. Husband's fault since he likes to alter words for his own personal amusement, and I know I've heard him say it.

Cindersmella.

Most appropriate name for a Disney character ever.