|December 7 (a date, which will live in infamy): The cop tells his dog to turn in his badge and bone for failing to protect the house from the scarf and hat burglar.|
|December 8: The cop proceeds to drink and gorge himself in grief over his stolen accessories, and guilt at having fired his dog. The dog does the same.|
|December 9: Eventually, he passes out face down on a bench. (Seriously, the Lego set for December 9 was A BENCH! Talk about creative potential!)|
|December 10: While he slept, the cop dreamed of a firefighter who brought him wieners in her vice-like grip.|
|December 11: She roasted the wieners over a grill... because winter barbecue is totally a thing to do at Christmas!|
Wow, week 2 started out in the dumps, but then got downright Freudian!
In real-world news, the packening continues apace, and our apartment resembles a box fort more and more every day. While somewhere deep inside me, my inner child thinks it's kind of neat to be living in a box fort, my grownup self who thinks about things like "getting into the bathroom" and "reaching the light switch" mostly finds it obnoxious.