The way I talk about my precious old dog is the same way most new moms talk about their babies, so I guess I’m going to be that annoying over-sharer in the future?
My conversations are:
"blah blah blah blah" - "omg ricki is so cute, she just moved over to lick my knee!" - "blah blah blah" - "ricki barked!"
A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.
You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.
A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.
You are in a garden, and you are astonished."