Molly entry #2

"You're crying? What the hell?" Molly says from her happy spot on top of my right shoulder.
"Shut up Parrot"
"I like it up here"
"You're not a parrot. Stop being weird"
"But this way I can hear you real good, and smell your breath and chew on your ears"
"Stoooooop I HATE when you eat my ears"
"hummmmmmm...You're listening to Liz Phair. That's your sad depressing I hate myself and hate my life music. I know how this goes. Next you'll be putting on the Leanord Cohen DVD, pulling out your notebooks, and writing words in between your tears"
"You're a Parrot"
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
"[sigh]"
"Come here my little human jello-pop. Let me lick your tears. Stop crying, you always look like Carrie the next day....Come here, I'll let you snuggle me for as long as you want."

Puggle snuggles. What is there in this place to possibly be sad about? With a Molly, even the largest most depressing moments are snuggably better.