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Upstairs, downstairs
Stampy is the little kid that belongs to one of the people who lives upstairs. Stampy visits on Wednesday nights and every other weekend. We can tell Stampy is here from hearing the constant thumping on our ceiling/their floor. Stampy loves jumping, running and rolling around.
While on my sick-sofa today, I drew a picture of Stampy on the iPad.

Stampy, the kid upstairs.
I’m guessing Stampy is a chubby little boy. He wants to be a cowboy someday, so he constantly wears cowboy boots. He loves wearing bags of oranges tied to his clothing because they help him make a louder thump when he jumps from the sofa and lands on the floor. And he’s wearing a Michael Vick jersey because his dad’s a moron.
Even though Stampy’s only here a few days a week, his half-sibling Squawk was born about four months ago. I can’t wait ’til Squawk starts walking.
It could be worse — at least I don’t have neighbors who raise chickens.
Here comes 2013!
We went to a late lunch today (It was around 4 pm, which put us in with the over-80 dinner crowd. And I am NOT kidding about that.) and we both agreed that 2012 was amazing. It’s the first year in a long time that we’re both not ready to slam the door shut on the passing year.
So I sit here sick*, struggling to stay awake ’til midnight while the lunatics here in QuaintTown are lighting illegal fireworks across the street**, and I’m a bit nervous that next year will be bad because this one was so good. Which is just a batty way to think. All of a sudden I’m worried about work and worried about money and health and all sorts of crap.
I wish you and yours a healthy and prosperous 2013!
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*Remember me bragging this summer that I hadn’t been sick since January? I’ve had 4 big colds in the last 3 months. It’s like my immune system isn’t getting a chance to build back up before the next bug sweeps through and I’m a fish in a barrel.
**It’s illegal to purchase fireworks here in NJ. It’s illegal to shoot off fireworks here in NJ that you buy elsewhere. YET, this doesn’t seem to stop anyone. Hey, I miss sparklers too, but it’s a pretty darn easy law to not-break.
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