Something supremely mundane and pointless that I simply must share.
On the way to Wal-Mart yesterday with the Assembled Multitudes, we passed a healthy-looking St. Bernard padding down the sidewalk, its owner, leash in hand, evidently in pursuit about a half a block away. La Principessa, who adores St. Bernards, cried, “Oh, look, it’s so cute!” Bonzo, who can take them or leave them, but who never misses an opportunity to needle his sister, pointed out that its chin was covered with frozen slobber, the thermometer holding steady here at about 10 degrees Fahrenheit. Madame exclaimed, “Oh, gross!” and wouldn’t look at it anymore, while Bonzo sat there in his Santa hat, smirking. Merry Christmas.
I can’t decide which is worse, a St. Bernard with slobber all over its chin, or a St. Bernard with the slobber frozen, or having to chase said St. Bernard down icy sidewalks in 10 degree weather.