Yesterday, Agent Yellow brought me most glad tidings. She's tracked down adult Heely's! Oh, Praise Be to Yeller! Saturday we will venture to the shoe store to pick me up my very own pair. (I will, of course, have to buy men's which means I'm limited to a color combination of red, black, and white. No matter.)
Needless to say, I am counting down the wheel-less minutes. Do you realize what these shoes will mean for me? They will change me! They will revitalize my work life! ("Let me just wheel that urine sample over to the fridge for you, partner.") My home life! ("Hey, Yeller, race you to the back room! What, no wheels on your shoes?") My romantic life! ("I know I'm always at the skate park these days, but I promise, I wheely care about you.").
In other news, Yeller's mom sent her an Easter basket last week, full of chocolate eggs and Peepy goodness. (Still waiting on mine, Mom!) Unfortunately, a mouse has been ransacking Yeller's basket in the night. I have to admit that it's a polite mouse: It only eats one chocolate egg at a time and then it deposits the foil wrapping on top of the wastebasket. (I'm not kidding.)
I should say, it was a polite mouse. I've learned that mouse manners don't matter to Yeller. She set up a trap in her basket, and the rest is his-gory.