Hi there everyone! How is everybody this fine Christmas time? Snow. Music. All the good things about Christmas. I love Christmas, don’t you?

But my mama! Oh, my mama! I love her, as you know. I love her so much! But she is a disaster! I hate to say this, but remember the enchilada sauce all over the kitchen? And remember when she was scooting on the floor - unable to get up and I thought she was scratching her butt? Remember the beer incident when she stalked people telling them she ‘needed a beer?”

Well, folks, mama has outdone herself. Let me tell you what happened the other day.

Mama was having company come the next day so she had promised her friend a chocolate pie. She spent an hour making the pie. Singing. Happily stirring. I watched her from a corner of the closet. Peeking around the door. Because I have learned to watch out for my mama. There is no telling what might happen. I watch from various hiding places.

Well? She finished the pie. It looked beautiful. She set it on the stove to cool and we sauntered into the living room to have a little rest. I was right on her tail...ready to relax.

As we were cuddled together watching Oprah, we heard a CRASH that almost blew us out of our chair. Followed by ANOTHER CRASH! Loud! We looked at each other.

We started for the kitchen. I was right behind her. I started my ‘creeping mode’ in slow motion...one foot cautiously in front of the other. Hiding behind her skirt. I am brave and I know that the best place to be in order to save the day if something happens is safely behind her. I crept. Using my commando crawl in case I needed to protect her. She peeked around the corner of the kitchen. Chocolate. All over the floor. On the walls, the fridge, clear across the kitchen on the drainboard, on the ceiling. Chocolate. She had left the stove on. And set the pie right on the hot burner.

It had exploded.

Not only exploded, but it had flown across the room and a huge piece of glass had hit another glass full of ice water she had setting on the drainboard and that was broken and all over the floor. Water, ice cubes, glass, and chocolate.

It was squished down between the coils of the electric burners. The gooey, sticky chocolate caught on fire and smoke poured out of the burner and filled the house. The fire alarm started screeching. I fled. I flew like a plane across the floor, hair standing up, tail smashed between my legs...flew to under the bed. I squiggled down and put my paws over my ears and closed my eyes.

Mama got a newspaper and tried to fan the fire alarm to stop the noise. She rushed in and turned off the burner. When it was quiet, I slid on my stomach from under the bed, hugged the walls as I went sneaking back into the kitchen where she was standing. Staring. Just staring. I sat beside her and stared. Cross-eyed with shock.

She got the broom and cleaned up the glass. Then, she took off her shoes. And, got a bunch of rags. She stepped into a glob of chocolate and it was on her toes. I was right behind her and I sat down to watch and give her moral support. I felt warm chocolate on my butt. I squealed. She looked and saw what had happened to me and cleaned it off my butt...but I felt sticky. I was thinking of helping her by licking some of it up, but she was hollering that chocolate was dangerous for animals and pushing me away. I was only trying to help!

Mama looked brown. She had brown pieces of hair. A brown chin. Chocolate on her blouse. She took off her blouse and got it all over her bra.

And then? I knew it would happen. I tried to get away, but too late. She started screaming with laughter. I knew I was in for it. That she was going to get me and shake me like a rag doll as she howled with laughter. Oh boy! She laughs at everything!

So. She spent the next two hours cleaning. I watched. With a sticky butt. When she finished, she took a shower and she also washed off my butt. Thank God she didn’t put me in the bathtub and give me a bath. I just had a little bit on my butt...not much.

There is no moral to this story. How could there be a moral to this story? It would be an impossible story for anyone but my mama.

See why I have to watch her? And take care of her?