Vietnamese food with a side of HOLY S**T

So, me and the RG are sitting in one of our favorite restaurants in Seattle, the Moonlight Cafe, and we hear something.

Something familiar.

Truth be told, RG and I have a particular language that borders on the infantile. We sing silly songs about the cats, we're affectionate towards one another in ways only a three-year-old could appreciate. One important word in the lexicon, however, is "beedoh". Or, in the long version, "beebeedoh." As in, don't be such a beedoh. Or, upon seeing a particularly cute cat moment, "BEEBEEDOH!"

Sickening, huh?

So, here we are in a fav Viet restaurant, and we hear the word "beedoh" in the next booth. Then, "bedoh bedoh."

Holy guacamole, batman! Someone has either gotten access to our brains, or we're sitting next to a major coincidence.

An out-of-body experience at the Moonlight Cafe.

This weekend, a trip, a prize, a moment of fun - a long weekend in Portland. One of my coworkers asked if he could come along, and I was thinking... ummm... I'm going to Portland for a couple of DAYS. With my WIFE. Why would I want to bring a coworker?

I'm getting concerned.

In more unfortunate news, RG got her eyelid scratched by one of the furry monsters this morning. We had to make a quick trip to the Emergency Room to have it checked out. As it turned out, it was nothing too bad, though it was bleeding pretty profusely at first. And her eyeball was untouched. We are now debating over the possibility of locking the cats outta the bedroom, or will we miss them, and they us, to the point of dischord. Robie, of course, will wear a hole in the bedroom door with his scratching.