Preppy Sitcom

Reasons why my life would be an awesome sitcom:

• Last weekend, I arranged a trip with some friends to our local haunted forest. While crawling through the last “haunted indecipherable structure that contained bodies hanging from the ceiling and clowns drinking toxic clown juice," my husband (aka our fearless leader) got stuck in a trick dead in. I thought he was climbing into a tunnel, so as I began to get on my knees, he stood up, knocking me so hard in the nose that I literally saw stars. Well stars and a clown drinking toxic clown juice.
  
  My friends, fearing I had a bloody nose, tried unsuccessfully to get a creepy monster with exposed brains to show us to the exit. The monster was so committed to his character that my friend got nothing out of him, just a grunt and finger point towards the way we came.
  
  
• And this morning, our lovely animals Dempsey and Lulu were playing with one of their 1200 nylabones and decided that they both wanted to chew the same stinky, old, should have been thrown away months ago bone. After a little fun bantering back and forth, LuLu (the basset) barked a little too loud and Dempsey (the Jack Russel) decided to plummet his teeth into her long right ear. The result? Blood, cursing and a late start for this gal. Fret not, LuLu is fine after a visit to the vet, Dempsey is grounded and I got to see a really disastrous medieval themed TLC A Wedding Story on daytime TV. However, if you have Cesar Milan's cell phone number handy, please do share.

Hmmm. Maybe I should quit my day job and move to Hollywood?