Then again, I did cling to the legs of my therapist once, when a particularly introspective session ended prematurely. But, as you've come to know and expect in this formation, I digress. It's available on the website. Here we are, gearing up to celebrate the Messiah's birthday with another round of department store layaways and toy sales. Mr. Rex, they tell me, is intended for ages four and up, and is one cool Yuletide dude.
Glory be to gaudy.
I already have a dog in phone therapy because of this. But, this put me in the gift-giving spirit, and I began my search. I've always been partial to giving singularly-suited gifts. If you've never dreamed of, but would delight in receiving an engraved, chocolate-covered copy of your birth certificate mounted on a pink flamingo clock radio, I'm your man. And, if there's a way to equip it with an audiotape snooze alarm of me singing in the shower, I'll find it.