So I'm sitting on the couch wasting time in my usual ways while my ever diligent husband works on God knows what on his own little macbook on the kitchen counter. (You can always tell work has gotten serious when it moves to the kitchen counter. That is when Greer stays quiet and far-ish [it's a small apartment... "far" is relative] away.) And relatively out of nowhere I start having a mild "oh-my-goodness-i'm-basically-an-adult-no-wait-i-AM-an-adult-and-my-life-is-changing-and-so-are-my-friends-etc." kind of anxiety moment. Maybe it was talking to Katie about baptism dresses... maybe it was going to see HSM3 (shut it) with a bunch of girlfriends and realizing how much we brought up the average age in the theatre... maybe it was looking at the blog of an old McAlisters buddy and seeing how grown up and mature and... well... ADULT she looks and sounds... but whatever. It happens.
And then I turned around and looked behind me on the couch.
And Freak Dog was sitting there panting with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. And he has some kind of pimple type thing on his nose (yes, we are considering actually changing his name to Medical Mystery... or Vet Bill... but Freak Dog works for now) which makes him look even more like a goober. And Wonder Dog was sitting in front of him alternating between licking said bump on Freak Dog's nose (gross, I know) and chewing on his ear. And they both looked so freaking happy about it.
And I laughed. And that is why dogs make life ok.