Since Harley’s surgery was scheduled for 10 a.m. and we haven’t heard anything, Chris and I are imagining him dead on a table.
I call the office, explaining that he is so little and if they could please give us an update because we are so worried.
“Ma’m…he hasn’t even gone in yet. He’s on my lap right now.”
“Ok. Um. Is he happy?”
“Yes. He is very happy. And very, very cute.”
TELL ME SOMETHING I DON’T KNOW.