Goldie’s Glittery Good Time

Today I walked out in the living room and saw this:



“What the??” I walked over to the couch. “What are you doing now?”

“This is fabulous!” Goldie said, stroking the red felt or whatever stockings were made of. “It’s spectacular like me!”

“Uh.. That’s my stocking from my childhood.” I looked up at the wall. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t that hanging above my window? How in the world did you get that down?”

She ignored me, continuing to stroke the stocking. “This reminds me of me,” she said, her voice awed. “Sparkly and fabulous.”

“Yes, it does have glitter like you. It seems to be the top choice for Christmas decorations. I think the wise men probably brought Jesus gifts of gold, frankincense and glitter.” I shook my head. “Honestly, I’m surprised my name has stayed on there all this time. Apparently they made glue that lasted back in the 70’s. Probably used real horse.”

Before I could blink something jumped on the couch. “Scooter!”



“Mmmph,” said Goldie.

“Scooter. Get down! Just because I take a lot of pictures of you doesn’t mean you have to start photobombing all my pictures. Apparently I’ve created a monster. Aww… but you’re so cute.” I scratched his head. “I bet I can make something on Zazzle with this! Maybe a shirt?”

When I finally got Scooter off the couch, I couldn’t find the Cater-blonde. “Goldie. Where are you?” I looked under the cushions and found pens, money, and a bill I hadn’t paid, but no strange bug person.

“This is fabulous!” I heard from nearby.



I did a double take. “Wait, how did you get a computer?” She was typing and didn’t respond.
 
She finally looked up. “That dog is fabulous! I just blogged about it.”

I squinted my eyes. “Wait, you are blogging about me now?”

“Yes. It’s called Goldie’s Glittery Good Time.”

“Uhh… Ok.” I sighed and rubbed my head. “I have a headache now. This is like some kind of worm hole.” I paused. “Caterpillar hole.”

“We are going to have so much fun together!” She rub her two hands together and fell on the floor. I thought about just leaving her there and hope someone stepped on her, but I couldn’t do it. I picked her back up.

“I’m going back to bed.” I told her. “Please don’t come in and start staring at me or something equally as creepy.”

She just continued to type. “Fabulous,” I mumbled. God knows what I’ll find tomorrow…

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