The following is a slightly jumbled chronicle of a slightly jumbled fifteen minute interval that took place in the POC tonight. Kimmy, one of the POC alumni (All hail her royal kimmyness! I think I have your old room, actually). She was over for book night, which I was unable to attend due to near-fatal fatigue. After the club meeting was over, Kim and Momzalez began conspiring over the computer and wound up at the kitchen counter with Momzalez showing Kim how to make a superb photo montage on keynote.
The following is a dialogue excerpt. It's only funny if you know that Beth G's maiden name is Ferguson, and my last name is Ferguson, and our family trees vaguely branch from the same backwaters.

Michael: Look at you go, mom! I can't believe you're showing Kim all this stuff! I'm so proud of you.
Lisa: You totally look like a Ferguson right now.
Momzalez: .....that's because I AM a Ferguson.
Me: What's wrong with looking like a Ferguson, Heifer?
Lisa: No, that's not what I meant!
MomZ: Oh yeah, I forgot about that...
Tonya: ....did you just call her Heifer?
MomZ: I guess you meant I look like your grandfather.
Lisa: Except he wouldn't have been smiling like you are.
Me: Momzalez is like a Keynote ninja!
Kim: Wait, I'm confused.
MomZ: *cures cancer with three well-placed keystrokes* no, do that.
Kim: Okay, can I show you guys my video now?
Tonya: You called her a heifer!
Me: These cookies are great! (nom nom nom)

Later, we all kind of oozed into the dining room (minus MomZ who had gone home with sweet Steph and the chubby mini-person), where we began two discussions: the first pertained to Tonya's foot, which she broke trying to step over Mollie and not break her foot.
Kim: Okay, so WHAT did you do to yourself?
Tonya: Well, I was trying to go up the stairs and Mollie ran under me (cue a long explanation which can be efficiently summarized by saying she tripped over the dog).
Me: ....Tonya, seriously? Sometimes it's okay to just step on the dog. She'll be okay.
Tonya: I know. Really, I love the dog. But I'm seriously hurting now, and I don't think I'm gonna sleep too well.
Corrie: You want some hydrocodone? Darvocet? Crack? Weed? H? (okay, slight exaggeration)
Tonya: ......Really?
Lisa: Darvocet is my FAVORITE!
Me: I had a friend one time that took Darvocet. He saw little green guys jumping around in loincloths.
Tonya: Why don't I ever see cool stuff like THAT?
Michael: ....You guys are TERRIBLE!
Me: Oh, hush, we know what we're doing.
Corrie: One or two?
Me: For Tonya? One now, one to keep by her bed if the first one doesn't work.
Tonya: *yoinks the pain pills*
(Editor's note: While we do not condone the sharing of prescription medication, particularly narcotic medication, I am currently Tonya's Home Health Nurse and responsible for overseeing her home care. Corrie is an ER nurse and knows how to dose people. No, we will not give you drugs, and no, we are not trying to turn Tonya into a drug addict. Poor Tonya has gone through a lot of pain with no meds whatsoever. Give her a break. And to be completely honest, she probably has an unused script for Darvocet floating around).
Back to our regularly scheduled program.....

The second conversation was regarding a duvet that poor Buddy pooped on some time ago after a bout with chocolate poisoning. We were scared to wash it, as a) we didn't know if it would destroy the down filling, and b) we didn't know if it would even fit in the washing machine. Of all people, it was Lisa who finally bit the bullet, got down to business, and charged into the laundry room with a plunger in one hand and a bottle of Resolve in the other.
Lisa: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Tonya: Go, Lisa. I have faith in you. You can do it. Yay. You're doin' great.
Lisa: *unintelligible grunting* I need some help with this!
Tonya: *leaning against the wall with sore foot propped up* Nah, you're doing find. I have faith in you. You're doing great.
Lisa: ARGH!
And with that she ran out of the laundry room. I attempted to take over, with a gutteral "MORTAL KOMBAT!" scream and managed to get the rest of the comforter in the machine. Amid several more episodes of freaking out, we managed to get the machine started. But a few minutes later, the most ungodly clanking noise started issuing from the room. Lisa slipped inside to check on the machine, but quickly ducked out again, shut the door behind her, and held her back to it as though the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were on the other side and could somehow be thwarted by the weight of the door plus her butt.
Lisa: Do NOT go in there!!! *CLANKCLANKCLANK!!!!!!!*
Me: But....the noise..............
Corrie: That bad, huh?
Lisa: It's frightening.
Me: The noise is really loud...........
Corrie: Just re-balance the load, Lisa!
Lisa: I'm not going back in!
Me: *whimper* noise!
Corrie: Someone do SOMETHING!
Michael: Pollen! That's what stained my shirt!

So I think the duvet is washed now, but we'll see.
Meantime, I'm sleepy.
Night!