What Chet Did

Well, well, well. After almost 24 hours of slagitude, Blogger has finally decided to accept photos. Pip, pip. Pardon the dripping sarcasm, but I don't like it when Blogger interrupts my, um, flow. On to my postus interruptus:

One of my favorite comments to date, from someone I know only as Jemkagily:

Sign us up as unabashed Chet Baker afficionadoes, my daughter Fiona and I. And as such I feel it is my duty to report that today, while listening to BBC Radio 2 on the computer, I heard my favorite on-air personality, Jonathon Ross, slander Boston Terriers. He is of the opinion that BTs have a habitual guilty expression, as if they're perpetually feeling dreadfully sorry about something they've done, which you may or may not have discovered yet.

Bostons? Perpetually guilty expression? Wha?

Bill's response: "That's because they probably HAVE done something."

My response: Sputtering. Jonathon Ross had better watch his back. But it is true that Bostons do guilt real, real well. And much of the time they have something to feel guilty about. Which is what makes them such FUN.
Which brings me to What Chet Did while I was packing on Thursday.
You know how packing goes. You're doing a hundred things at once. Mostly, I was trying to get Blogger to wake up from its 48-hour sleep (the one prior to this one) and accept some photos. I'd run back to the bedroom and throw a few clothes in the suitcase and then run off to fruitlessly diddle Blogger, then do something else. Chet knew what was up. I'd been home 12 hours and I was already leaving again. There was the suitcase, being packed AGAIN.
Come on sugarpuppy, give us a kiss. Forget it, heartless female. I am very very angry at you.
So he stationed himself right next to the open suitcase, fuming, not willing to believe that I was really packing the freaking thing again after being home only 12 hours. No amount of sweet talk would bring him out of his funk.
I bustled back into the bedroom again, to find this tableau:

I am so sorry. But I had to do something to stop you.

Since you think it's so funny, I am going to resume chewing these. They are delicious.


What? Did I do something?

Bill: "You're not going to post that, are you? That's so GROSS!"
Me: "Of course I'm going to post it. It's hilarious. And it's not gross. They're brand new."
Bill: "ZICK!"
Me: "Everybody knows what they look like. Everybody knows what they're for. We're all grown-ups here. What's the big deal?"
Bill: "You are insane. If the kids did this you'd be so mad. Chet does it and you think it's cute."
Me: "No argument there. Major photo-op. Highly blogworthy."
Bill: "Blogzilla."
Me: "Bride of Blogzilla."