Meet Abbey:
- ain't she cute!If you couldn't tell from that picture, Abbey is a morning person.
Meet Maura:
- ain't she...
Oh you morning people, always cheerful and happy. It's almost like you weirdos enjoy getting up early - it's disgusting.
Just kidding.
I envy people who can roll out of bed, shake off morning grogginess, and actually be functioning human beings in the morning. Why does any of this matter? Remember that road trip I went on, the one where I epitomized Southern class. Abbey was my chauffeur! Actually Abbey is my friend. Yup, I have friends! And one of them decided she wanted to drive about 1,000 miles with me during six days of pretty much constant companionship. What a friend! And that driving began Saturday morning at about 6:30am. Ew. Maybe that does not sound terribly early to you but after spending the week staying up late to study for exams then staying up late to pack/getting up early to actually finish packing, a 6:30am departure time was pretty much torture for me.
Somehow, I managed to get all my packing and last minute cleaning done - it's possible I even greeted Abbey with a smile and a reasonably pleasant disposition.
It did not last long.
When I am tired, I am quiet. Abbey took advantage of me in my state of exhaustion. And talked. And talked. And talked. And talked. And talked. And I enjoyed. Every. Story. She. Told. Me. All fifty-three gajillion of 'em. Especially this one:
When Abbey was younger, her family had a garden. From how she described it, it was like Veggie Tales - on crack. She just listed vegetable after vegetable when she told me what they grew. You name it, they grew it. Nom nom nom!
There was just one problem though - the groundhogs.
The groundhogs would come and eat their vegetables, those devils! What is a man to do? Shoot 'em! At least, that's what Abbey's dad did. He was not alone in his elusive groundhog hunts though. He employed Abbey and her younger sister Tess. Their incentive? Five dollars. Yup, if Abbey or Tess saw a groundhog and told their dad about it, they got five dollars as a reward. It sounded like a good deal to me. It sounded hysterical when Abbey told the story because she ended it with, "I really hated knowing those groundhogs were going to get shot...but sometimes I really wanted five dollars."
The point of this blog post? I just really like that story.
- ain't she...If you couldn't tell from that picture, Maura is not a morning person.
(Maura is also done writing in third person.)
(Maura is also done writing in third person.)
Oh you morning people, always cheerful and happy. It's almost like you weirdos enjoy getting up early - it's disgusting.
Just kidding.
I envy people who can roll out of bed, shake off morning grogginess, and actually be functioning human beings in the morning. Why does any of this matter? Remember that road trip I went on, the one where I epitomized Southern class. Abbey was my chauffeur! Actually Abbey is my friend. Yup, I have friends! And one of them decided she wanted to drive about 1,000 miles with me during six days of pretty much constant companionship. What a friend! And that driving began Saturday morning at about 6:30am. Ew. Maybe that does not sound terribly early to you but after spending the week staying up late to study for exams then staying up late to pack/getting up early to actually finish packing, a 6:30am departure time was pretty much torture for me.
Somehow, I managed to get all my packing and last minute cleaning done - it's possible I even greeted Abbey with a smile and a reasonably pleasant disposition.
It did not last long.
When I am tired, I am quiet. Abbey took advantage of me in my state of exhaustion. And talked. And talked. And talked. And talked. And talked. And I enjoyed. Every. Story. She. Told. Me. All fifty-three gajillion of 'em. Especially this one:
When Abbey was younger, her family had a garden. From how she described it, it was like Veggie Tales - on crack. She just listed vegetable after vegetable when she told me what they grew. You name it, they grew it. Nom nom nom!
There was just one problem though - the groundhogs.
The groundhogs would come and eat their vegetables, those devils! What is a man to do? Shoot 'em! At least, that's what Abbey's dad did. He was not alone in his elusive groundhog hunts though. He employed Abbey and her younger sister Tess. Their incentive? Five dollars. Yup, if Abbey or Tess saw a groundhog and told their dad about it, they got five dollars as a reward. It sounded like a good deal to me. It sounded hysterical when Abbey told the story because she ended it with, "I really hated knowing those groundhogs were going to get shot...but sometimes I really wanted five dollars."
The point of this blog post? I just really like that story.
