...and a little annoyed that my husband has picked up on my middle-of-the-night conversation trick.
Isn't that just reserved for me?
I think I clearly remembered hearing that at our wedding...
"Do you take this woman who will be allowed to wake you up at any hour of the night to ask you if you will cry if she dies?"
But I distinctly do not remember answering yes to a very similar question put to me.
But anyway.
My husband's Dad was the part-owner of a camel.
Do you know how I know this?
I know this because my husband told me so.
In the middle of the night.
Because it was a natural segue to being in a deep sleep.
Obviously.
Apparently the camel's name was Ahmed. It was actually a dromedary, though, cuz it had one hump...a distinction I did not discover until this morning when I went to find a picture to illustrate this ridiculous post.
Apparently the camel lived at a fairgrounds in Idaho when it was not wearing a silk scarf on its hump and being led around with the Shriners in various parades around the Northwest part of the country back in the 1960's.
Maybe you saw him. Ahmed, I mean.
Maybe you were at a parade when you were a little kid in Idaho or Washington and saw a festively draped camel in a parade and now because of the capricious nature of the universe you are reading about it here and it is bringing back a happy memory of your childhood.
Because, honestly, that is the only reason I can think of that he had to wake me up to tell me this.
Yea. That is definitely it.
I'm sure of it now.
So, yes, you are welcome for me losing some really, really badly needed beauty sleep.
And yes, my husband spent hours in 7th grade researching the type of camel best suited to the weather in Idaho. And now I know that camels make a low, deep pitched braying sound (which I plan to illustrate to my husband tonight...for fun...at around 2 am...you know...just to share the love).
And since we're speaking about sharing the love AND since I care about all of you I sought out the elusive www.camelphotos.com to find you this cool picture of Ahmed's great-great-Grandfather.
Because, as always, I am a full-service blog here at Jenny Matlock.
YessirreeBob...or perhaps in the spirit of this post it should be YessirreeAhmed...I am happy to provide this information to you this fine and sunny morning.
And if you want to e-mail me your number I'll be happy to have my husband provide strange information to you as well, in the middle of the night.
Because I am thoughtful like that.
And because I'm tired.
And because I don't know that I really, really care that my husband's Father owned part of a camel named Ahmed.
Sigh.
And perhaps this post is part of the reason why people in Idaho hate me.
They don't even know about the camel-bashing.
And they didn't like me even then. Did you miss that post? Oh no! You might want to read it now...just in case you haven't had quite enough inane blatherings so early in the day! I warn you in advance, though, there are potato jokes contained in that post. So don't be shocked.
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