Welcome to Portland. If you've never been there, it kind of resembles this car.
Home for the next week. Winter is excited -- plenty of fetch space.
And windows to...perch...from...? Perch in...? On...? To porch at? To porch with. Right, that's it.
After a month of bare trees, autumn returns.
Okletsgettobidness. "Build me a house?" Didn't really sound like a request.
Definitely not a request.
Has to be big enough to sleep in, OBVIOUSLY.
Getting there...
Almost there, just a few m---
NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! HORRIBLE BLOOD-CURDLING SCREAM OF DISMAY!!!
"Build me a manimalcade?" "A what?" "A man-ih-mal cade." "...??..." "Manimal cade."
"Yes, sir."
"And the manimals go inside." "Oh an ANIMAL CAGE. Got it." "..??..."
Moving on...
"Whose are these?" "Uh, Desmond...I need those for...wearing." "I take them out?"
Not a request.
"Candy?" "No that's not for eating, Desmond." "Go on my face?" "No, no NO no NO. Nonononon-- ok on your face."
Sometimes it's easier to play with someone else's hair when your own is all the way at the back of your head.
Meet Sophia.
Most commonly known for eating footwear and foot-related accessories.
Thanksgiving eve. Time to make hand turkey placemats, OBVIOUSLY.
Skyping in Grandma
Sophia is an established entertainer. Bachelor's degree in Imitations. Here, the Popeye.
With a minor in roof-raising...
...and waving of the hands in the air, like she just doesn't care.
"Needs more sparkles."
"Who else do you want to make a placemat for?" "The microwave. Annnd...Buddha."
I like to think that this pose symbolizes Desmond's existential struggle with the limitations of modern-day religious expression, as represented by the shackles on his wrists and the Buddha juice clinging to his palms. It's in the eyes. If you don't see it, you'll never get it.
This one just says "Back off my Buddha hand."
Boxie (Boxy?) an Winter are trying to get along.
I mean, honestly, who DOESN'T like a root beer float.
Hanging out with Cara and Andy
Dancing to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
Teaching Desmond how to develop a lifelong oral fixation.
Thanksgiving.
"Laura, will you please cut my hair?" "Ugh, fine."
I'm going to regret this.
She enjoyed this much more than I did.
Half-done. Time for a 30-minute break to prep the turkey.
First time either of us have done this.
"Do those...go...in it...?"
"Is that...the bottom...?"
"Whatever, just throw it in."
Winter's reaction to the final half of the haircut.
Desmond didn't like it either.
The house is Winter-proofed: spiral stairs. A dog's worst nightmare.
"PLEASE HELP ME DOWN!"
"HELP ME! What's WRONG with you?! STOP TAKING PICTURES! This isn't FUNNY!"
Dinnah.
Really hoping I don't cut my finger o-- "AAAAAAH!"
Just kidding. Or AM I...?*
*This would have been funnier if you could see me holding up my hand with one finger bent in half. I'm doing it right now. See?
After dinner dancing. Wait for the last moment of the clip, it's worth it.
(click on Youtube to see it full screen)
"Happy Fanksnimming eveybahdee! See you in Portland post Part 2!"
Like the cat, like the Turkey cooking part, like the family atmosphere
ReplyDeleteDid you try to put your head into the Turkey and scaring people? You'll be killed if you do that right after the hair cut.