I'm married to the unabomber.

My mom and dad went to Salt Lake for a few days this week and asked us to baby-sit Boatfeet (a.k.a. Molly.  I call her Boatfeet.).  We happily obliged, because she's so freakin' cute:

A little neurotic, but cute.  As I've gotten to know her more over the past few days, I've learned some things about her:
1.  She likes to eat other dogs' poop.
2.  She poops with one hind leg up.
3.  She is scared of Micah.
4.  She likes Sadie and me.
5.  She's not sure how she feels about Gage.
6.  She likes to hump my arm at night.
7.  She likes to sleep with Ben and me.
8.  She prefers to be held over your shoulder and patted on her back, like a baby that you're burping.
9.  She got a haircut and is really embarrassed about it. 
10.  She ADORES Ben.  Ben left to go grocery shopping the other night, and she cried the whole time.  When he came home, she was so happy she almost wriggled out of her body.

This morning, Ben wore a zip-up hooded thing and put on his sunglasses and said, "Hey, Kar, look.  I'm the unabomber!"  I chuckled and took a picture:

When Molly saw Ben in his unabomber getup, she fa-reaked OUT.  She started barking and backing away.

And Ben, being Ben, of course milked it for all it was worth.  He crouched down very slowly and silently, face still.  She barked louder and harder.  Then he started crawling slowly toward her.  Still with the stony face.  Still with the sunglasses and hood.  She kept barking and backing up into the living room. 

Then he stood up, took off his hood, and took off his sunglasses and said, "Molly, it's just me!"  And she recognized him and ran to him for a hug before he left.

Silly girl. 

And silly man. :)  Love him.