The Brilliance of My Adored Object

So we are all agreed that my Rohan-sweetness is brilliant, right?

Of course we are.

He really is brilliant, though. Anne Elisabeth fancies herself to be something of a writer, but I tell, dear readers, she's got nothing on my dearest darlingest love.  He, the adored object of my heart, is a rare and beautiful talent.

Take, for instance, this poem he wrote.

If you have difficulty reading the font, it goes:

I wish I were a hippo
'Cause then I would be fat.
But if I can't be a hippo
I'd like to be a cat.

It takes a unique sort of mind to come up with comparisons of this majestic magnitude! My mind fairly boggles at the idea. Hippos! Fat! Indeed! And who doesn't, ultimately, find themselves desiring a life feline?

It is brilliant. My Rohan is brilliant.

Anne Elisabeth claims to have started it, however. She, being bossy like she is, told Rohan one evening that she needed him to "bring more poetry into our marriage." He, being wonderful like he is, obliged by spontaneously composing this epic rhyme.

"Hey," says Anne Elisabeth, "You could mention that I'm the one who illustrated it! That's my drawing of your Minion there!"

Um, Anne Elisabeth, Copernicus called. You're not the center of the universe.

Really, sometimes, that human . . .

Anyway, Rohan's brilliance combined with the pedestrian efforts of Anne Elisabeth have served well to give our Petting Station corner a decorative upgrade. See here:

"Wait a minute . . . She sayin' I'm fat????"



Sorry, Minion. Next to Marmaduke, everyone is fat.

I know your eye went right to me in the background.

I mean, who wants to watch Marmaduke and

Mama-kitty kissing when they could watch me?

Me: "I approve this change, household lackeys."

Marmaduke: "I wonder if anyone needs a hug . . ."