It's better than a sharp stick in the eye!
Thankful! (and not)

It was Lucy, in the Foyer, with her Teeth!

Lucy good and evil
Lucy has a toy box. (toy basket, if I'm being precise) My CHILDREN don't have a toy box anymore, but my dog does. We have a simple rule - if it's in the basket, you can chew it to shreds. Unfortunately, Lucy doesn't play by the rules.

Lucy has her own set of rules.

One rule, actually.

"If I can reach it . . . it's mine!"

Which is why all of our shoes have chunks missing.

And three pairs of my scissors (including the blue Sizzix pair) have met a grisly demise.

Last week Gretchen came over and, quite recklessly, deposited her purse on the foyer floor.

Rookie move, G!

Lucy chewed up her comb. 

I was both horrified and triumphant.

Because Gretchen coddles my dog. She comes over and Lucy plays it up for all it's worth - wagging her tail and whimpering like she's oh-so-neglected - while Gretchen pets her and says things like "Mommy's here now!" and "There's my angel!" and "You want to come live at my house, don't you?" and "Did they lock my wookums in a closet again?" etc., etc.

I try to explain that "Lucy" is short for "Lucy-fer" and that she is, in fact, an evildoer, but Gretchen will have none of it.

Well how about NOW, Gretchen? Also, your hair is a little tangled in the back . . .


OK, so this brings me to the second part of my story, wherein John and I went to the movies on Saturday to see "In Time" with Justin Timberlake and where, with blogworthy irony, we expressed similar opinions as the credits rolled:

ME:    Speaking of time  . . . that's two hours of my life that I won't get back.

JOHN:    Ditto.

The movie theater is in the mall.

JOHN:    Hey, since we're at the mall, I want to get a couple of shirts for work. Do you need to shop for anything?

ME:    Just a comb for Gretchen. Lucy chewed hers up.

JOHN:    You're not going to find a comb at the mall.

ME:    Well I thought maybe one of the novelty stores might have one. It would be funny to find her a silly one.

JOHN:    Like in the '80's when you wore them in your back pocket?

ME:    Yep. We used to buy them from a giant bin at K-Mart and they had funny sayings on the handles. I had a big green one that said "If you can read this, you're too close!" - still not sure why my mother thought that was acceptable . . .

JOHN:    Ha.

ME:    Oh look - a Hello Kitty store - wouldn't that be perfect?! I'll catch up.

So I walked into the Hello Kitty store and it was overflowing with kitty-emblazoned trinkets and I really couldn't even focus on all the stuff so I finally just asked one of the salespeople.

ME:    Excuse me, do you have any hair combs here?

SL:    Hairbrushes? Yes - right over here.

And she walked with purpose over to a hook of hairbrushes, grabbed one and handed it to me, and started back toward the register like it was a done deal.

ME:    Oh, sorry. Not a brush - it has to be a comb.

SL:    (taking the hairbrush out of my hand and returning it, with Pretty Woman snobbery, to the hook) Oh we don't have anything like that here . . . maybe try Target?

Now I know I should have just said "Thanks anyway" and walked out, but that last little comment about Target sort of irked me. Plus, did I not clearly say "comb" when I inquired? Are "brushes" and "combs" the same thing now? I say Nay!

ME:    Yes, well I know I can buy a comb at Target, but I wanted one that was ridiculous.

SL:    (frosty look)

ME:    Uh . . I mean . . . not that all of this (gesture like a flight attendant) is ridiculous . . .

SL:    (icily) I understand.

ME:    I was . . uh . . . just trying to make her laugh . . . and . . . uh . . . inside joke

And then I bolted. 

I found John and gloomily told of my Hello Kitty experience.

JOHN: You SAID that?!

ME:    It just came out. Plus, what did she think? That I needed to comb my hair and my first thought was to check the Hello Kitty store? Because THAT'S where people go when their hair is tangled? (muttering) Stupid superior stupid-head.

JOHN:    She's right, though. You're going to have to go to Target.

ME:    No, let's walk back to the car on the other side of the mall. Maybe there will be some sort of novelty store that will have one.

JOHN:    Oh look . . . Combs R Us!

ME:    Funny.

JOHN:    "Comb and Get it" - that's it! We can open a shop. It's a totally untapped market.

ME:    Enjoying yourself?

JOHN:    "Comb by You" - even better! They can customize their combs. Bedazzle them!

ME:    That sounds a little bit like "Kumbaya"

JOHN:    That's the joke! comb-by-YOU. comb-BY-you. COMB-by-yooooou. 

He spent the next few minutes practicing different ways to say it, obviously pleased with his little joke.

CombIn the end we had to go to Target. Well, actually, we went to Wal-Mart, because it was right next to the mall. I found a rainbow-colored handle-less comb.

ME:    (yawning) This actually looks a lot like her comb.

JOHN:    Yeah, that will work. It's not funny, though. Why don't you get a second comb and decorate it up for her? Here's a plain black one. Can you Bedazzle this with gems or something?

ME:    (brightening) Yeah! I could do that. Good idea.

JOHN:    (clutching comb suspiciously) But do you have enough to do the ENTIRE handle?

ME:    Of course. Do you even KNOW me?


I used my Imaginisce iRock tool, which made the process easy and fun. It did use up all the silver gems from the multi-pack, though, so I had to finish with a slightly different silver gem. I added a "g" to personalize it:

Bedazzled comb

I showed it to John yesterday morning:

ME:    Ta da!

JOHN:    Very nice! I like the addition of the "g". 

And then, after turning it over:

JOHN:    Hmmm. Didn't do the back?

ME:    I didn't have enough gems.