This morning I threw up on the bed right next to my dad's face. He woke up cause he heard the yacking sound I make when hurling a hairball. I couldn't help it, I was frozen in time, my eyes about to pop out of my head, my tongue sticking straight out of my mouth - this hairball was well on its way! It was a do or die sort of situation.
While I feel bad because I threw up next to the face of the person I love most in this world, Zoe and I think this one deserves a score of 12 out of 10. Yes, you read right. 12. Not so much for quality of the hairball but for the delivery, timing and placement. I have to admit it myself, it takes balls to do such a thing. And since I am ball-less (my memory of this occassion is clouded), this in itself is an amazing feat.
I've spent most of my day congratulating myself by biting Zoe and slapping at her when I can. A few times I even bared my belly at her in a dare - of course she's too chicken to take that dare. Or should I say, I got lucky. Either way, with my 12 noted on the calendar, I am feeling pretty well accomplished.
If only humans could learn to appreciate the little things in life. It's interesting how they can accomplish something that was nearly impossible and then later downplay it like it was nothing and then mope around about how they don't have anything to show for their life. If only they would look at the small accomplishments rather than the whole picture.
In fact, humans might be happier if they stopped comparing themselves to other people and thinking so much about things like, "Where am I, what am I doing, why am I 30-something with nothing to show" and started appreciating the small feats in their lives. Like a well placed hairball.