Three things:
When my husband and I take our dog Ozzie for a walk, Ozzie stops and waits for me to catch up when I get too far behind. I used to consider it adorable until someone told me he wanted to be sure the most pathetic member of the pack isn't eaten by wildebeests.
I’ve been locked in my house so long, I now have four sizes of jeans--"skinny," "in-between," "fat," and "screw it I'm never going outside again anyway."
The next regular appearance of the "seven-year cicada" will be in summer 2021, which means DC will be overrun with the little buggers for a couple months. I'm not a religious person, but is there some sort of "get out of the next plague free" card for the apocalypse? Like, if you live through the pestilence and locusts, you don't have to deal with frogs?