Love the SD12 like my own, she's sweet and very helpful, really great.
She talks like a belt-fed machine gun. I'm not a simpleton and don't need people to speak to me slowly... but this girl makes me feel like I'm gonna get ADD or something. Listening to her for a few minutes is EXHAUSTING.
DW and I sitting there, relaxing, waiting for her ex to drop the kids off.
Front door flies open, Thing 1 and Thing 2 come flying in... Thing 1 (SS13) heads straight for the kitchen after dropping his stuff off in his room. Thing 2 drops her stuff in the living room, "MommymommyguesswhatwedidwewenttoSixFlagsandtheywereclosedandsowecouldntgetinbecausetherewasaprivetepartysowewenttoseeamoviewesawdaddyshome2haveyouseenithaveypuseenthefirstoneididitwasfunnyandsowasthesecondoneyoushoildreallyseeitwillyoutakemeiwanttoseeitagainratatat-tat-tat..." My word, I felt like she riddled my skull with bullets... I now have a sense of how a home invasion must feel. My lifeless corpse lay on the couch, draining out, clothes smoldering from the assault... then she went to her room.
DW looked at me. "Are you ok?"
"The M-60 machine gun is a gas-operated, air cooled, belt-fed automatic machine gun that fires from the open-bolt position and is chambered in 7.62 by 51 mm NATO cartridge..."
Then came the second wave...
"MommymommyguesswhatimthirdchairclarinetlistentomepracticehowaboutJingleBellsdoyouwanttohearthaticanplayit...shouldigetmymusicstandidontliketouseitbecauseitpokedmyfingeronceandithurtandmademeyeyyOWWsoidontlikeitbutillgetitifyouthinkishouldokillgetitseelookOWWWseeitoldyouidontknowwhyitdoesthat" *starts playing Three Blind Mice* *Changes to playing the scales* *starts playing something else, restarting several times* *starts playing Jingle Bells several times*
My brain by this point has turned to liquid and dribbled out onto the carpet. The dogs are all getting very worried about all those clarinet notes she's making. VERY worried.
My brain was by now mostly just a greasy stain in the carpet that looked like one of the Hell's Angels parked a VERY LEAKY 1949 Harley Davidson panhead motorcycle while he served 20 years in prison. DW looked over at me, facial expression like your favorite Picasso (or Glenn from The Walking Dead). "Are you ok?"
Is it just me? DW keeps reminding me how awesome SD is, and I agree, but DANNNNNG... I start fantasizing about going to work, or maybe going to get my physical, just to get out of the house a while...
I mean, REALLY... she's unbelievable.