Digression of worms

It's 8:45 on a Friday night, and I am researching ulnar radiculopathy (spine pathology causing pain that travels the course of a nerve, here along the pinkie side of the arm down to the pinkie and ring fingertips) for a paper.  I lead an amazingly exciting life....

Luckily, I have two little worms to break up the seriousness.  Worms, you ask?  Worms, kittehs, seals -- in this house they are one in the same.  I mean, really, with someone who names their cats Palisades and Brontomerus would you expect anything less? 

Sadie often lays at the back of my chair those times that I feel like perching on the front half.  Today Merus decided she wanted to be there too, but the only way that would work is to lay on top of Sadie.

Exhibit A: Sadie sandwich.

Pay no mind the super fancy Chiefs pajama pants.  I thought silly had peaked for the moment, only for Merus to then rearrange in the opposite direction.

Exhibit B: Stinky butt.

Sadie tolerated head to head, but booty-in-the-face was too much.  I managed to catch both these shots with my phone's horribly crude camera just before the moment disappeared.  For the latter photo, that meant Merus got a might bite to the butt to tell her to get off.

The story of how worm became a nickname is probably rather meaningless to everyone else, but it is absolutely hysterical for me.  Sadie was in her nightly sprinting mood.  For those of you lucky enough to know what the Pit Scoot looks like (the boot-scoot goofiness that pitbulls alone have), Sadie has her own version.  At one point picked her up and held her on my lap.  Nathan leaned in to call her a crazy worm for all her goofy springing, but accidentally bonked heads with me.  He apologized, saying he got excited.  Then, with a British accent of all things and with the closest he has ever come to dancing in my presence, he sang "I got excited.  I got excited.  You're a little worm!  You're a little worm!"

I was redder than my classy Chiefs pants for a full five minutes from laughing so hard.  Oh my....