The Mock Dock

You guys – do you remember last fall when Daisy and I were attacked by the suicidal chicken? And how I told you that this is the kind of crap that happens when she and I are together?  Well, it’s been another suicidal chicken sort of day. 

But first, allow me to just tell you how WELL RESTED I am.  As you know, Grandma Mock took Junior Mock last night, and is keeping him this whole week so that I can catch up on sleep.  So last night, I slept a solid 8 hours.  STRAIGHT.  And then I woke up even 10 times more cheerful than I normally am.  For those of you who know me, you know I am relentlessly cheerful in the mornings anyway, so you can only imagine the total GLEE that I was feeling today.  I even spontaneously hugged my CFO – which prompted him to say, “What the hell is the matter with you?” to which I responded, “I’m just so RESTED! I’m feeling extra cheerful today!”  And so he just shook his head and muttered, “Greeeat” because he already thinks I’m an abnormally happy person, and was afraid about how MORE happiness might wreak havoc around the office.

Anyway, Daisy and I had lunch with some Important People today – people that have the power and connections to help Chicks On The Right gain readership and exposure, which is a really cool thing.  So we chose a little restaurant mid-town which offered outside seating, since it was pretty nice out at lunchtime.  And so we’re lunching and chatting and exchanging ideas with the Important People, and Daisy starts telling a story, and all of a sudden, the largest insect EVER dive bombs directly into her eye.  And you should have seen how cool she was about it.  She was all calm and nonchalant about it, as if bugs the size of chihuahuas fly into her eyes on a routine basis.  She just sort of brushed it away, and went about her story-telling.

You guys, if this would have happened to me, this is how it would have played out:  First, I would have shrieked loud enough to break every window within a 1 mile radius of the restaurant.  Next, I would have immediately jumped up and started flapping my arms around like a madwoman, in order to get rid of the insect which would have been long gone by then.  And in the process of jumping up, I would have managed to knock the entire table over, putting everyone’s lunches directly into their laps.  This is how I would have managed the flying chihuahua.   Daisy?  Totally cool.  Which is lucky for us, seeing as how we were with Important People and all.

Someday, you guys, Daisy and I are going to be famous (only not the gross Paris Hilton kind of famous), and you can tell everyone that you knew us back in the day when we were attacked by flying chihuahuas and suicidal chickens.