Friday, January 16, 2015

Adventures In Losing Control

Honey Bunny is now solidly into the 2 pound range, so there is not only that much more cuteness but that much more weight to throw around.  A whole 10 ounces more, in fact.  With that *38%* increase in body weight, the clouds parted, angels descended, and the Earth spins only for her.

Dogs bow down to her.

Only the freshest greens the grocery store has to offer will do.

Chairs are not good enough for her to sit on.

We are little more than step ladders to her.  (She's on my face, using it to climb onto a ledge.)

"Step ladder, why are you photobombing my selfie?"

Christmas is nothing but a delicious Happy Meal, complete with a super-sized drink at no charge.

"There is no need to fear you pesky head scratchers."

She's become a philosopher: the best way to a bunny's brain is through her stomach.

She openly flouts evolution and experiments with being carnivorous.

The Queen at her leisure upon her throne after dedicatedly, but nonchalantly digging to China through my futon.  All in a Regent's morning work.

Her Majesty bestowing knighthood upon a lowly subject.

Living rooms are given over to different kinds - bunny kinds - of entertainment centers.

The county high way authority was subsequently press-ganged into service to expand avenues of entertainment via high-tech road construction.

Last, but not not least: she has started eating food right out of our mouths.  (Backstory: My dad started feeding her crackers at night, which she isn't supposed to eat but adores nonetheless.  Apparently the buttered toast my Dad ate during his recent convalescence was similar enough.  He couldn't get her off his face.)

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