We sent this one while we were on vacation and, as a result, there’s now a chihuahua living in Afghanistan. A stuffed one, left over from the “Yo Quiero Taco Bell” days.

I have no idea why it was in my mom’s house to begin with – one of my nieces was a big Taco Bell fan when she was a kid, so maybe she left it. I have no idea why my dad thought he had to throw it into the shipping box at the last minute – maybe it’s part of his on-going mission to rid the house of clutter.

But for whatever reason, there’s now a chihuahua living in Afghanistan. I’m sure it doesn’t eat nearly as much as Ralph, the lizard that has adopted Dad’s company.

The rest of the package:

Utz Poker mix, “with a touch of spice”: Dad says it’s more than a touch. He loved it, though. Too bad we can’t find it out west. I might have to start ordering.

Running shoes: I’d finally succeeded in getting Dad to retire his year-old running shoes, affectionately known as the clown shoes, when he was on leave in February. That was a lot of miles ago, though. I figured he’d balk at putting the new pair into service, but a guy in his company who’s a worse shoe nag than I am convinced him.

Assorted lollipops: This was my mother’s contribution. I think this also had something to do with my dad’s determination to throw in the chihuahua.

Paydays: Two, as part of the Recommended Dad Allowance.

Copyright 2010 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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