The Eagle Has Landed:

MIKE'S HOME!

I'm not yelling this to yell at you - just to share the experience of what it's like when The Mike gets back home from anything.

It's a LOUD process. The longer he's gone then the LOUDER it gets.

Just a short all-day-long trip on the lake? Pretty kinda loud to this delicate flower.

Gone for 96 hours? FREAK'N LOUD.

He has to yell greetings to every one of our fur-faces.

"FRECKS! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!"

"BOO-CEPHEOUS" (and if you know how to spell that Okie-assed name then please do share! It's the nickname of a famous old-time country-western singer or his son.)

Wait. I think it's the nickname of the dude that sings the "Are You Ready For Some Football" song - that guy that's the son of that Okie-assed country-western singer.

Never mind. I found it. He goes by Bocephus but The Mike has bastardized it to encompass our original name for Blue (the grey cat). Blue. Boo. Beau. Cephus.

We're weird like that. M'kay. HE is weird like that. It's his sing-songy way of communicating.

He greeted each and every one of our furfaces in this manner when he landed. Like they hadn't seen him for weeks. Did I mention THE LOUD?

FREAK'N. LOUD.

So much so with The Loud that I kept stage whispering (in our front yard around 9:30-ish at night) "Please keep it down. You must sound like a lunatic to our neighbors! It's way too late to be this freak'n loud."

His response? "FUDGE THEM!" In LOUDY-LOUD-LOUDERSON talk.

Only he didn't say "Fudge." He said THE word, the big one, the queen-mother of dirty words, the "F-dash-dash-dash" word!

That's when the ground parted and swallowed me up for all eternity.

Okay. Not really, but that is what I wished around 9:32-ish tonight.

The Mike has landed.

I can only hope he doesn't lick a frozen pole or shoot his eye out or let our dog eat our upcoming Big Dinner.

As for that Hootchy Leg Lamp? Right up his "cursing in the front yard" alley except with MORE LOUD.

*dies of embarrassment*