Priceless

Cost of corn on the cob at Kroger - 4 for $2

Cost of corn on the cob after being digested in about 7.2 seconds by stupid large dog who takes mostly-eaten ear of corn from cackling toddler who gleefully tosses food scraps to furry beggar -- FOUR HUNDRED FORTY SEVEN DOLLARS.

Did you know that dogs aren't supposed to consume entire ears of corn? Oh yes, the whole cob, like it was a dog Twinkie. I could have sensed that this was not the greatest idea ever; however, I was inside cleaning up from dinner and the rest of the family was outside on the patio. Dan even captured the corn-eating extravaganza in photos! Whoo hooo, FUN-NY!!!!

2 hours later, I, slightly concerned, pulled out my Google MD/veterinary license and checked into "dog eat corn cob" -- followed by 12938717865 results of people whose dogs needed emergency surgery for intestinal obstruction and a lot of vet pages that read "this is NOT GOOD. Do NOT let your dog eat a corn cob."

I called the vet this a.m. after panicking all night, hoping they would recommend some kind of doggie laxative or something to speed along the corn-pooping process. Their response -- "oh. That's NOT GOOD. We need to see him. Um, now would be great."

OK...so Grandma and both kids haul the dog in and meet me at the vet. Preliminary x-ray negative, although vet notes "with obstructions, it usually doesn't show on the x-ray."

8 hours later - Murphy has gone through barium testing to look for blockages. Apparently his corn-Hoovering did involve at least a little bit of mastication. He's currently crashed out on the floor looking drained and slightly green around the edges, but otherwise no worse for the wear.

So yes, most expensive damn corn on the face of the earth. Dan is now questioning why we didn't just wait to see if the dog exploded, as he basically received a $447 enema. Hey, so did our wallet!

Nice things - a fairy tale

Once upon a time there was a little girl who dreamed of growing up and living in an elegant home surrounded by nice things with a decor that hinted at Pottery Barn and Restoration Hardware with a touch of Crate and Barrel thrown in for fun. She got older and got married and people bought her all kinds of nice things as wedding gifts to fill her elegant home, which she had to admit was not shaping up quite as she had pictured, what with her marital first home being approximately the size of an elf's shoebox and already inhabited by her new husband whose style was a little less Pottery Barn and a little more Pots of Old Mac and Cheese on Stove meets Crates He Used in College Dorm Room to Prop Up Nintendo. She received lovely gifts like this Wilton Armetale Reggae silver bowl, retail price $70, which she envisioned using to entertain as she hosted festive parties attended by a colorful group of friends.

Then she had children, and realized that nice things are for single people.

This is how her $70 silver bowl is used today.

Clearly still being enjoyed by a colorful group of friends. The shoebox house has been traded in for yuppie 4BR digs, and the decor has deteriorated from Early Bachelor to Disorganized Newlyweds With Hope to Continuous Regurgitation of Toys and Sippy Cups. It's possible the Big Bad Wolf might try to huff and puff and blow down the house, but he'd probably break his neck tripping on the wiffle ball bat on the front step or the rock collection that HAS TO reside across the front door frame.

At least the mailman still brings the Pottery Barn catalog, and a girl can still dream. Right?

The end.