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The BOMB

Welcome to the BOMB.



The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

My photo
My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Two-Minute Mom

It's a girl!

Yep, I became a Mommy to a tiny 3 year old girl for a couple minutes this afternoon.  

I was the only shopper on the accessories isle at The Party Store making  up a last minute costume to wear with a caftan I already have used as an Alien a few years ago.  This year, my idea had already  morphed from repeat Alien  into Butterfly, and finally  settled on Hippie, when the little girl walked up holding out a toy and said, "I want this Mom."   I looked behind me for her Mom.  I was still alone.

She called me "Mom" again and didn't seem to realize I am not her Mom.

The third time she said it, I asked her where her Mom was.  She only looked at me.

About the time I asked her, "Where's your Mommy?" I heard movement on the other side of the isle--the row opposite from where she came. A second or two later a woman appeared. I smiled thinking her Mama had been found.

The woman walked past us. I peeked around both end caps. We were alone. I asked the little girl if she were lost. Tears welled up in her eyes.  I was past concerned and well on my way to irritated.

Not at the little girl--but at the absentee Mom, because a bad person could have walked out of the store with her daughter unchallenged.

I told the little girl, "Come with me to the register.  We will find your Mommy."  She followed, albeit a few feet behind me.

About the time we reached the register (maybe 15 feet away), her Mom realized she was missing. Saddly, here is no telling how long this child roamed the store on her own.

Mom was in line to pay--on the other side of the register--and didn't have a kind word to say to either her little girl, or her Lost-and-Found-Daughter's-2-Minute-Mom.
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