I just overheard Kevin’s version of “this little piggy.” Playing with the baby’s toes, he says:

This little piggy got gangrene and fell off;
This little piggy had frostbite.
This little piggy got bitten off by a bear,
And this little piggy was stolen by a voodoo lady.
And THIS little piggy had flesh-eating bacteria that went wee-wee-wee- wee all the way home!
(**Runs his fingers up the baby’s leg and tickles his chin. Nicolaus squeals with delight.**)

Yesterday we went to look at the house again. It’s still cute, and the lot is still fantastic. We went to take my parents to see it, and Kevin wanted to do a thorough inspection and look for hidden bad things about the house.

Everything looked good, except for the foundation. Which might look bad. The inside looks fine but outside, on every side of the house there are cracks in the bricks. And the windows are seperated from the house just a little.

This makes us very leery, because my parents are right at this moment paying the price of a new car to have their foundation fixed. Not a Geo Metro. A fucking Camry with leather seats.

So now the queston of what to do… this affects what we are willing to pay by a lot. Even if an inspector says it’s fine, frankly we won’t believe him. We’ve seen the half-assed job that inspectors do.

After much discussion, we are preparing to make an insultingly low offer. We were already going to offer them less than what they wanted but this lowers our offer by nearly 10K because we’re risking having to do a lot of work down the road, and because we’re going to have to explain it to the next buyers. I’m all nervous about it, even though it doesn’t matter. They know there are foundation problems, you can totally tell. We get the impression that they may even be trying to hide the problems, as sad as that is to say.

If it didn’t have that problem, we would be super excited. Instead we’re all stressed and nervous and unsure of what to so. Ugh, I hate stuff. Stuff sucks!

I keep glancing at newspapers and misreading “Isabel” as “Israel”. I mean, come on, they’re basically the exact same word. Which makes these headlines a lot more interesting:
Millions without power after Israel.
Israel slams the East Coast
NC fears Israel will turn on them
Thousands fleeing in Israel’s path

Bah, you get the idea. I need more hobbies.

Fuzzy bunnies, Mary Lou Retton, Kelly of Regis and Kelly, you may all be excused. The position for cutest freaking thing ever on the planet has been filled.

Tonight I was laying on the bed, on my side, creating a little wall between Nicolaus and Mouse. Nicolaus was sitting up next to my stomach, and Mouse was asleep under the blanket, curled up in the crook of my knees. At some point – honestly I was sleepy so I don’t remember exactly – Mouse stuck his head out from under the blanket and rested it on my leg. Nicolaus looked confused. He started looking back and forth at Mouse and then at the place on the floor where Mouse usually sleeps. Like Wait. Is he – is he the same dog or what?

But that’s not the cute part. The cute part is the incredible game of peek-a-boo that ensued once he decided that this was in fact Mouse. Nicolaus would lift up the blanket, just enough to see most of a long, pointy doggie face. Da-da-dada!, and he would pet Mouse’s nose with a single jabbing index finger. Then after a few seconds he would pull the blanket back down. Wait for it… wait for it… tadaa! It’s Mouse again!

Oh. My. God. The way I’m describing it is only expressing 32% of the actual cuteness that was going on.

Mouse for the most part stayed perfectly still, squirming whenever a stray baby index finger ended up his nose.

This went on for a little while, until Mouse turned around and rested his head on the bed. Nicolaus got ready for the big reveal, Da-da-da-daaa… pulled away the covers and… holy crap, the dog is gone! Oh no! Big, howling baby tears!

Mouse looked up over my knees to see what was the matter.Da-DA! *smile*

ME: Ma-ma
NICOLAUS: DadadaDADAAADADA
ME: Mama
NICOLAUS: *smacks water with his hand* DAAAAda
ME: No, MMMMMMM-Mmmmm. Ma-ma.
NICOLAUS: *grin* Dada! Dada! Dadadadaaaada.
ME: No sweetie, I’m your MAma. MMMM-mmmmm-mama.
NICOLAUS: *silently mouthes “Ma”*
ME: Yyeah! That’s right! Mama!
NICOLAUS: Dada.