laugh

darnold1975

Happy 420: High Times and Hairballs Edition

“On 4/20, my cats don’t judge my vibes. They just steal my snacks and act like they invented relaxation.”

-Unknown

 Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today’s blog is not just a vibe. If you’re new here, welcome to This Puzzled Life. It’s where the energy is always slightly unhinged. The cats have more personality than sense. And the universe occasionally sends Snoop Dogg to supervise whatever nonsense is happening in the living room.

The living room is suspiciously calm. It’s the kind of calm that makes you immediately assume someone is doing something they shouldn’t. A sunbeam is stretched across the floor like it’s been blessed by the universe. And glowing so dramatically it could sell skincare. Even the dust particles look like they’re floating around with purpose.

I step in and instantly sense that my cats are acting extra mellow. Not normal mellow. Not “we napped for six hours” mellow. But “did someone replace our brains with warm mashed potatoes?” mellow. Tinkerbell is melted into the sunbeam like a retired yoga instructor. Coco is staring at the wall like it just revealed a plot twist. And Piper is on her back. And smiling at the ceiling like she’s discovered enlightenment or a new conspiracy theory.

You haven’t even lit your stinky healing medication yet. And somehow the cats are already vibing harder than you. It’s a full‑blown 4/20 circus starring one human with “smelly healing medication.” Three judgmental cats. And a surprise cameo from Snoop Dogg. And he absolutely did not sign up for the chaos he walked into.

Me: “Okay. Why is everyone staring at the wall like it owes them money?”

Tinkerbell: “Shhh. Today is sacred. Today is 4/20. The Day of Chill. The Festival of Vibes.”

Coco: “It’s the holiday where humans get very relaxed. And eat snacks like they’re being timed.”

Piper: “Snacks? I love snacks!”

 falls over dramatically

Me: “Sweetheart, you fall over every day. That’s not a holiday thing. That’s a “you” thing.”

Tinkerbell: “As High Priestess of the Sunbeam, I declare this a day of peace, softness, and staring at nothing with great purpose.”

Coco: “Basically, we’re honoring the humans’ tradition of being extremely chill.”

Me: “I’m not even doing anything.”

Coco: “Exactly. You’re participating beautifully.”

Piper: “So what do we do for 4/20?”

Tinkerbell: “Step one: Melt into the sunbeam. Become one with the floor. Let your bones go on vacation.”

https://share.icloud.com/photos/0a1nq9NaEX2HZutftMFG8Qw_w

Piper: “I’m melting!”

flops like a warm pancake

Me: “You look like a microwaved quesadilla.”

Tinkerbell: “Step two: Eat snacks until you forget what time is.”

Me: “That explains the empty treat bag.”

Coco: “We were spiritually aligned with the holiday.”

Me: “You were spiritually aligned with theft.”

Tinkerbell: “Step three: Stare at something very intensely for no reason. A wall. A shoe. A ghost only you can see.”

Piper: “I see ghosts all the time!”

Coco: “We know. You scream at the air at 3 a.m.”

Me: “I thought that was a demon. Turns out it was just Piper yelling at dust.”

Piper: “So 4/20 is just being cozy and happy?”

Tinkerbell: “Exactly. A day of calm. A day of peace. A day where even Coco stops judging.”

Coco: “Let’s not lie to the child.”

Me: “Can we all agree to just vibe today?”

All Three Cats: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, I lit the charcoal, I sprinkled the sage, and now I’m lighting the stinky healing medication. Let the vibes begin.”

Tinkerbell: “The air smells like regret and pinecones.”

Coco: “Is this the thing that makes you stare at the fridge for 20 minutes?”

Piper: “I like it! It smells like adventure!”

Me: “It’s medicine. It helps me chill, breathe, and not spiral into existential dread when the dishwasher beeps.”

Tinkerbell: “I respect your rituals. But the vibe is missing something.”

Snoop Dogg: “Y’all rang?”

Coco: “Oh my God it’s Snoop Dogg!”

Piper: “I thought you were a myth! Like the sock monster or the concept of “boundaries”!”

Piper: “Bow‑wow‑smooth‑wow, sunshine on my tail now, rollin’ in the vibe cloud!” (Still off‑key. Still confident. Still wrong.”

Me: “Oh no. She’s about to do The Thing.”

Coco: “Brace yourselves. Her legs are about to file for divorce.”

Tinkerbell: “Let the child embarrass herself. It builds character.”

Piper: “Watch this, Uncle Snoop!” 

starts doing a chaotic little foot shuffle that looks like she’s trying to tap dance, moonwalk, and dodge imaginary lasers at the same time

Me: “Piper, baby, that’s not a dance. That’s a medical mystery.”

Coco: “She’s moving like her paws are buffering.”

Tinkerbell: “I’ve seen spilled noodles with more coordination.”

laughing so hard he has to hold onto the couch

Snoop Dogg: “Lil mama. I don’t know what that move is, but it’s definitely somethin’.”

Piper: “It’s my signature move. I call it “The Vibey Shuffle of Destiny.”

Me: “It looks like your feet are arguing.”

Coco: “It looks like gravity is winning.”

Tinkerbell: “It looks like performance art created by someone who’s never seen a performance.”

Piper: “I am the beat! spins, falls, gets up, keeps going like a tiny furry warrior.”

Snoop: “Ayy… she fearless though. Every squad needs one member who dances like the floor is giving them secret instructions.”

Piper: “Thank you, Snoop. I am an icon.”

Coco: “You are a hazard.”

Snoop: “Nah, lil homie. I’m real. And I came to bless this 4/20 with peace, love, and a whole lotta chill.”

Me: “Snoop, I’m honored. I’ve got my smelly healing medication, my cats, and a sunbeam. What else do I need?”

Snoop: “You need to relax, vibe, and let the universe do its thing. Also snacks. Never forget the snacks.”

Tinkerbell: “I’m melting into the sunbeam now. I am one with the carpet.”

Coco: “I’m still judging, but I’m doing it with rhythm.”

Piper: “I’m vibing so hard I forgot how to blink.”

Snoop: “That’s the spirit. 4/20 ain’t just about the smoke. It’s about the soul. The healing. The joy. The softness. The unapologetic chill.”

Me: “Can you stay forever?”

Snoop: “I’m always here in the vibe. In the playlist. In the part of your brain that says, “you deserve rest.”

Tinkerbell: “I respect your rituals. But the house smells like a skunk got promoted to shaman.”

Coco: “I Googled it. Apparently, humans use this plant to “relax.” You don’t look relaxed. You look like you’re trying to remember your own name.”

Me: “That’s part of the process.”

Piper: “Can I have some?”

Me: “Absolutely not. You’re already chaotic enough. You tried to fight a sock yesterday.”

Piper: “It was looking at me funny.”

Tinkerbell: “So what does this “healing medication” actually do?”

Me: “It helps my body feel less like a haunted house. It quiets the noise. It softens the edges. It makes the world feel less like it’s yelling.”

Coco: “And it makes you eat cereal at 2 a.m.”

Me: “That too.”

Piper: “I like this holiday. You’re soft and giggly and you dropped a treat on the floor.”

Tinkerbell: “I still think it smells like a wizard’s armpit.”

Me: “It’s not for everyone. But it’s for me. And today, we honor the healing. Even if it’s stinky.”

So today, as you celebrate 4/20 the way your cats would want: with softness, silliness, sunbeams, snacks, and a healthy dose of “what is that smell?” A day where the world slows down, the energy softens, and the only thing on the agenda is vibes.

May your medicine heal. May your cats judge you lovingly. May your snacks be plentiful. May your cats be mellow little chaos muffins. And may you, like Tinkerbell, Coco, and Piper, find a sunbeam and melt into it. Thanks for reading! And keep blazin.’

Affirmation: On 4/20, I embrace my inner cat: I stretch, I snack, I vibe, and I refuse to explain myself to anyone.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!”

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

420 Eve: The Annual Southern Summoning of Uncle Snoop and His Blessed Goodies 

“If 4/20 is the High Holy Day, then my living room is the cathedral and the munchies are communion.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Tonight, we prepare the house like the ancestors intended. Not for angels. Not for Santa. Not for judgmental Southern aunties who think essential oils are witchcraft. It’s for Uncle Snoop. The Patron Saint of Peaceful Vibes and Premium Herb. He’s the bringer of gifts. Guardian of grinders. Distributor of munchies. And benevolent overseer of all things chill.

In this household, 4/20 Eve is not just a date. It’s a holy observance. A spiritual checkpoint. A moment when the veil between the earthly realm and the land of Good Weed grows thin. We cleanse the air. We bless the living room. We light the charcoal like we’re opening a portal to a calmer dimension. We sprinkle the sage like we’re sweeping out every last bit of Southern guilt, generational trauma, and whatever nonsense the neighbors prayed over us last Sunday. And the cats? Oh, they’re already in formation.

It’s the holiday. It’s the Easter, Christmas, Ramadan, and Homecoming of the cannabis community all rolled into one beautifully aromatic cloud. The day when stoners worldwide rise up, slowly, gently, after finding their glasses. And celebrate the sacred plant with the reverence of monks. And the snack budget of unsupervised teenagers. It’s the one day a year when the grinders shine a little brighter. The snacks taste a little better. The vibes hit a little smoother. And even the cats act like they understand the spiritual significance. 4/20 is the Holy Day of the Herb. The Sabbath of Sativa. The Pentecost of Pineapple Express. The Passover of “Pass that over here.” And if Hallmark had any sense, they’d be selling cards.

Down here in the Deep South, 4/20 Eve exists in this delicious cultural tension. It’s where half the neighborhood is prepping casseroles for Wednesday night church. And the other half is out on the porch arranging grinders and nugs like they’re setting up a devotional altar to Saint Sativa. Because while conservative Christians love to act scandalized enough to need a fainting couch, they will absolutely swallow three prescription pills, a CBD gummy shaped like a dove, and a Tylenol PM before bed and call it “the Lord’s medicine.”

These are the same folks who will declare marijuana “a gateway to sin” while fanning themselves like they just heard a rumor about the pastor’s nephew. And squinting at you with that judgmental Sunday‑school side‑eye. And whisper‑praying loud enough for the whole fellowship hall to hear. And don’t get me started on Southern traditions they cling to like a monogrammed life preserver. The “We don’t do that in this house.” Meanwhile Uncle Ronnie has been high since the Reagan administration. The “We believe in good Christian values.” Meanwhile half the congregation is outside after service smoking cigarettes so strong they could sandblast the steeple. And the “Marijuana is a drug.” Meanwhile they’re sipping communion wine like it’s bottomless brunch at the Cracker Barrel.

Here we are laying out the grinders, papers, and whispering our intentions to the night air like we’re calling on those Patron Saint of Peaceful Vibes. And to have a day of peace, snacks, reflection, and communal joy. A day where nobody judges you for being exactly who you are. Because if Santa can have cookies, Snoop can have grinders.

Every culture has its traditions. Some folks hang stockings. Some leave carrots for reindeer. Some light candles. Some bake pies. Some pretend their in-laws aren’t judging their life choices from the couch.

In this Mississippi rooted, cat-ruled, chaos-blessed sanctuary, we observe 4/20 Eve by performing the ancient ritual of Leaving Snoop on the Stoop. We don’t wait for Snoop Dogg. We prepare for him.

Step One: Sweep the Stoop Like You Expect Company

Not regular company. Legendary company. You can’t have Snoop Dogg pulling up to your porch and stepping on last week’s leaves, a rogue Amazon box, and whatever emotional debris the wind blew in from your neighbor’s divorce. No ma’am. You sweep that stoop like you’re about to host Beyoncé, Oprah, and the ghost of Bob Marley for brunch.

Step Two: Lay Out the Offerings

This is where the ritual gets serious. You place them gently. Reverently. Like you’re arranging communion wafers but for the spiritually elevated.

  • A clean grinder (because Snoop deserves fresh teeth on his herbs).
  • A rolling tray (preferably one that doesn’t still have glitter from that one craft project you swore you’d finish).
  • A nug or two of your finest stash (don’t be stingy generosity is how blessings multiply).
  • A lighter that actually works (don’t embarrass the household).

Arrange it all neatly, like a charcuterie board for the chronically chill.

Step Three: Whisper Your Intentions Into the Night Air

This is the part where the cats gather around you like you’re summoning something. Piper sits there judging your posture. Coco is sniffing the grinder like she’s TSA. Tinkerbell is already trying to knock the lighter off the stoop because she’s chaotic neutral. You close your eyes and whisper, “Snoop, if you’re out there, bless this house with new goodies, fresh vibes, and the strength to ignore our group chats tomorrow.” The wind rustles. A neighbor coughs. A raccoon side-eyes you from the trash can. The universe has heard you.

Step Four: Go Inside and Pretend You’re Not Checking the Living Room Every 12 Minutes

The magic only works if you act casual. You can’t be peeking out the blinds like you’re waiting on a DoorDash driver who’s lost in your neighborhood cul-de-sac. No. You must trust the process. Snoop arrives when Snoop arrives.

Step Five: Wake Up on 4/20 Morning to See What the Stoop Has Blessed You With

Maybe it’s a new grinder. Maybe it’s a pre-roll. Maybe it’s just the same stuff you left out because the cats knocked everything over at 3 a.m. But the point isn’t the goodies. The point is the ritual. The community. That’s the kind of magic the South needs in this current political environment.

In this house, the cats take 4/20 Eve dead serious. They act like Uncle Snoop is their long‑lost godfather. And they’re responsible for making sure the porch looks like a spiritual retreat for the chronically relaxed. As soon as I start sweeping the stoop, they materialize like I rang a tiny, invisible bell.

Piper sits on the welcome mat like she’s the head of the Stoop Committee. And supervising with that “I’m not mad, just disappointed” face she inherited from every Southern grandmother who ever lived. Coco is pacing the porch rail like a mall cop. Sniffing every grinder, tray, and nug like she’s conducting a federal inspection. If Snoop ever did show up, Coco would absolutely frisk him for contraband he brought himself. And Tinkerbell is already trying to rearrange the offerings. She’s nudging the lighter two inches to the left. Then three inches to the right. Then knocking the rolling papers off the stoop entirely. Because “feng shui,” apparently.

Together, they’re preparing for Uncle Snoop like he’s Santa Claus, Beyoncé, and the UPS man all rolled into one. They know the legend. On 4/20 Eve, if you leave out clean grinders, fresh papers, and a little herb on the stoop, Uncle Snoop might swing by with gifts for your stash.

The cats take their roles seriously. Piper guards the doorway like she’s checking names off a VIP list. Coco patrols the perimeter for squirrels, raccoons, and Baptists. Tinkerbell keeps knocking things over until the “energy feels right.”

By the time we’re done, the stoop looks like a cross between a spiritual altar and a very relaxed yard sale. If Snoop Dogg ever did stroll up our walkway, he’d take one look at these three furry porch greeters and say, “Yeah, this house gets it.”

Inside the house, the cats take their 4/20 Eve responsibilities so seriously you’d think they were preparing for a surprise inspection from the Department of Elevated Affairs. As soon as I say, “Alright y’all, Uncle Snoop might swing by tonight.” The entire feline staff snaps into action like they’ve been training for this moment their whole lives.

Piper trots into the kitchen with the confidence of a woman who has hosted many a church potlucks. And knows exactly where the good serving bowls are kept. She sits by the pantry door staring at me like, “Open it. We need the good snacks. Uncle Snoop is not showing up to a table full of off‑brand pretzels.” I pull out the munchie food that consists of chips, cookies, gummies, the emergency stash of Honey Buns. And she supervises while I arrange them on the coffee table.

Coco is doing laps around the living room, sniffing everything like she’s TSA at the Atlanta airport. She inspects the grinders. She inspects the rolling papers. She inspects the bag of chips like she’s checking for counterfeit snacks. If Snoop Dogg walked in with a backpack full of gifts, Coco would absolutely pat him down and say, “Sir, I’m gonna need you to unzip that.”

Tinkerbell, meanwhile, is dragging random objects into the living room to “improve the vibe.” A sock. A toy mouse. A single Q‑tip. And a receipt from 2021. She keeps knocking the lighter off the table, then looking at me like, “It didn’t spark joy. I’m helping.” She also insists on sitting directly in the middle of the snack spread like she’s the centerpiece. By the time they’re done, the living room looks like a cross between a stoner’s welcome banquet, a Southern auntie’s snack table, and a crime scene where the only victim is my sense of order.

May your stash be plentiful, your lighters be loyal, your cats be merciful, and your stash be blessed by the Doggfather himself. May your snacks be abundant and your responsibilities minimal. Happy 4/20 Eve, y’all. Thanks for reading! And God Bless 420 tomorrow morning. 

Affirmation:  Today I move with the calm confidence of someone whose snacks are blessed. Whose stash is protected. And whose spirit is aligned with the sacred frequency of Uncle Snoop.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

The Boob Boy, The Bondi, and the Big Ol’ Bus They Got Thrown Under

“When you build your house on hypocrisy, don’t be shocked when the storm hits first.” 

-Southern Gay Wisdom

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Brace your spirit. Today’s sermon is brought to you by the Holy Ghost of “I Told Y’all.” The Book of Southern Gay Prophets. And the ancestral spirits who only show up when the drama is premium‑grade. The air is thick. The wind is petty. And the hypocrisy is rising like steam off a Mississippi driveway in July. Kristi Noem and Pam Bondi are out here doing the MAGA Walk of Shame. And the universe itself said, “Roll camera.”

Kristi “I Love Traditional Marriage Unless It’s Mine and Puppy Killer” Noem is over here smiling like she’s hosting a Mar‑a‑Lago bake sale. While her entire political career collapses like a Dollar Tree folding chair. Pam “I Have the Files-Wait, No I Don’t-What Files?” Bondi is shuffling papers like she’s auditioning for a Florida reboot of Law & Order: Girl, Please. And the hypocrisy? So thick you could spread it on a biscuit.

These two strutted into the week like they were the headliners of the Family Values Revival Tour. And strutted out like they’d been personally escorted offstage by the Holy Spirit and a security guard named Earl. The way they both got tossed under the Trump Bus with no seatbelt, no warning, no emotional support casserole, and not even a lukewarm dish from the church ladies is nothing but whew.

The ancestors aren’t just giggling. They’re hollering. They’re wheezing. They’re slapping their knees and saying, “See? Didn’t we tell y’all?” And now the smoke rising today? It’s not from the grill. It’s from the fall of two of America’s most dramatic ‘family values’ performers finally catching up to the truth they tried to outrun. Light the charcoal cause history is happening.

Let’s begin with Kristi “Traditional Marriage” Noem, who woke up this morning as the Director of Homeland Security. And then went to bed as the Director of “Girl, What Happened?” She strutted into that press conference like she was about to announce a new casserole recipe. Her bless your heart chin high. Hair sprayed into a helmet. Confidence radiating like she’d just won Miss Cornbread 2024. 

Kristi Noem is the same woman who smiled her Mar‑a‑Lago smile while cheering on the cruelty of ICE like it was a halftime show. And she really thought she was untouchable. She encouraged the worst of it. The raids, fear, brutality, and the “show them no mercy” energy that echoed the darkest chapters of history. She did it with a grin. With a camera‑ready face. And with the confidence of someone who believed she’d never be held accountable.

She wanted to take anything into custody that breathed wrong in Trump’s direction. Which included blow‑up animals, parade balloons, inflatable flamingos, and anything that dared to stand against the man she treated like a holy relic. She acted like Donald Trump wasn’t the con artist the entire country warned her about. She acted like loyalty to him was a retirement plan. But the check bounced.

And then Trump hit her with a “You’re fired!” Which had that same energy as a Dollar Tree cashier clocking out early. Because the register froze and they simply don’t get paid enough for this. But the real plot twist? Her husband, Mr. “Family Values” himself, is now living his best life as a cross‑dressing boob boy. And honestly? Good for him. Somebody in that marriage deserved joy, sequins, and breathable fabric.

Meanwhile, Pam “I Have the Files on My Desk” Bondi is out here giving us the greatest trilogy since Lord of the Rings like:

  1. “I have the files on my desk.”
  2. “I don’t have the files on my desk.”
  3. “What are the files?”

Ma’am. This is not a Nancy Drew novel. This is not a Hardy Boys mystery. This is a Florida woman with a ring light and a dream. Here’s the part that hits the deepest nerve. Pam Bondi who spent years doing the “I don’t have the files” shuffle, while survivors of Epstein’s abuse begged for acknowledgment she never gave. She never even acknowledged the Epstein survivors. Not when she was Florida Attorney General. Not when they begged for accountability. Not when they asked for meetings. Not when they asked for justice. 

Survivors and advocates have said for years that she ignored them. Dismissed them. And prioritized political loyalty over human suffering. And now she’s out here crying on camera about being “betrayed?” The only betrayal that mattered was the one she committed against the people who needed her most. Public criticism has followed her for years. Because she didn’t meet with them. She didn’t prioritize them. And she didn’t use her power to pursue accountability when she had the chance.

And so here we stand. We’re watching Kristi Noem and Pam Bondi wobbling down the political driveway tumbling down the marble steps of their own hypocrisy. Like two contestants eliminated in the first round of a reality show nobody asked for. Their mascara is running. With their heels in their hands whispering, “Donald, please don’t do this.” Donald Trump, patron saint of Save Myself First Ministries, simply adjusted his tie and said, “Ladies, I love you, but I love me more.” And he tossed them off the political porch like yesterday’s potato salad. The silence that followed could’ve been bottled and sold as a conservative Christian essential oil.

They’ve been politically guillotined by the very man they worshipped like their Orange Mussolini Messiah Daddy. The same man who told them he’d protect them. The same man who said he’d always be there. The same man who turned around and cut them loose the second it benefited him. Pam and Kristi, the country wasn’t lying to you. He was. So, put that in your Epstein pipe and smoke it.

And this is only the beginning. The fall of Trump and the collapse of MAGA isn’t a single moment. It’s a season. A reckoning. A slow‑motion implosion of every grifter, every sycophant, every “family values” fraud who thought proximity to power would save them. Two down. Many more to go.

And as the dust settles. As the excuses crumble. And the crocodile tears dry on the marble floors of Mar‑a‑Lago, let the record show That the South remembers. The gays remember. The survivors remember. And history remembers.

And now I’ll say this with my full chest, “Kristi, Pam, Bye Felicias! May the truth follow you louder than your lies ever did. May accountability find you faster than your loyalty found Trump. And may the fall of this corrupt movement be as dramatic as the chaos it unleashed.” Thanks for reading! What are your thoughts on these two useless human beings with no souls?

Affirmation: I release the chaos of hypocrites. The noise of liars. And the weight of other people’s fake values. I walk in truth, glitter, and ancestral clarity. 

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

Affirmations Of A Badass #1

“My affirmations are so powerful that even my self‑doubt takes notes.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, we’re stepping into a sacred space of Affirmations of a Badass. This is where the vibes are strong, the confidence is loud, and the only thing fragile is your last excuse.

This isn’t your grandma’s affirmation circle. No one here is whispering “I am enough” while sipping chamomile tea and staring at a beige wall. This is the kind of affirmation practice where you look in the mirror. Hype yourself up like you’re about to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show. And remind your soul that you are the main character.

This is you hyping yourself up just enough to function like a semi‑responsible adult. It’s self‑talk that says:

  • “I can do hard things.”
  • “I deserve good things.”
  • “I am powerful, even if I’m also a hot mess.”
  • “I’m allowed to take up space without apologizing.”

Badass affirmations are about self‑belief, resilience, and getting out of your own way. They don’t put anyone else down. They don’t require an audience. They don’t demand worship. They’re basically emotional caffeine. And let’s be honest, in 2026, we Americans need our emotional bank accounts overflowing, not overdrawn.

And for those of us who’ve lived through trauma, our confidence wasn’t just shaken. It was bulldozed, set on fire, and then politely kicked into a ditch. So, It’s our responsibility to rebuild what was lost. Sometimes daily. Sometimes hourly. Sometimes between sips of coffee. That’s why we walk into every day like we own the place. Because honestly, at this point, the universe should probably be paying us rent.

My power is loud. My confidence spreads faster than gossip in a small town. And my energy refuses to shrink just because someone else forgot their sparkle. I am a badass in progress. A masterpiece in motion. And anyone who can’t handle that, can step to the side while I strut.

And no, before anyone gets confused, this is not narcissism. Narcissistic Personality Disorder is dangerous, not a vibe. It’s not confidence. It’s a fragile ego wrapped in glitter.

Narcissism says:

  • “I’m better than everyone.”
  • “Rules don’t apply to me.”
  • “If you don’t praise me, you’re wrong.”
  • “Your feelings are optional. Mine are mandatory.”

Narcissism needs constant validation, lacks empathy, and treats people like props in a one‑person show. It’s not empowerment. It’s entitlement.

Badass affirmations, on the other hand, kick the door open, hand you a metaphorical crown, and say, “Get up! We’ve got a world to set on fire.” Being a badass isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up even when your hair looks like it’s been negotiating with humidity for three days straight. It’s about believing in yourself even when your brain is like, “Girl… really?” And it’s about knowing that beneath the chaos, the caffeine, the weed, and the questionable life choices, you are powerful, capable, and slightly unhinged in the best possible way. Now, take a deep breath. Center your spirit. And prepare your soul. We’re about to affirm the absolute hell out of ourselves.

The first affirmation for we badasses is this:

“I walk into every day like I own the place, because honestly… I do. My power is loud, my confidence is contagious, and my energy is too big to shrink for anyone. I am a badass in progress and a masterpiece at the same time.”

Translation: “I don’t just enter a room. I arrive like a dramatic wind gust that knocks over a plant and makes everyone wonder if they should applaud.” It’s the energy of someone who wakes up, looks in the mirror, and says, “Yes, I am the creator of my universe,” then immediately trips over their own shoe but recovers like it was part of the dance.

It’s the vibe of a person who walks into a retail giant like they’re the CEO and buys absolutely nothing they came for because their confidence whispered, “Do You Boo Boo!”

It’s the spiritual equivalent of wearing sunglasses indoors. Not because you need them. But because your aura is too bright for the general public. It’s the declaration of someone who is simultaneously building themselves, hyping themselves, and confusing everyone around them with their chaotic, unstoppable energy. Basically, you’re a masterpiece who occasionally forgets where you put your keys, but you do it with swagger.

And there you have it. Your first dose of “I’m unstoppable and mildly dangerous in a charming way.” If anyone doubts your power after this, simply slow‑blink at them like a cat who knows it owns the house. Because you do. You absolutely do.

Remember that being a badass isn’t about having it all together. It’s about walking into the day with confidence, resilience, and the kind of energy that makes people wonder what you know that they don’t. It’s about hyping yourself up even when life feels like a group project and you’re the only one doing the work. It’s about choosing yourself unapologetically.

Don’t worry. Rebuilding confidence is the state that I’ve been in for many years. It’s not instantaneous. It’s something that will require diligence, patience and perseverance even on days when you don’t want to. So go forth, you magnificent Tasmanian devil of chaos. Speak kindly to yourself. Strut like the universe belongs to you. And if all else fails, repeat after me: “I am a badass, and the world will adjust accordingly.” Thanks for reading! Now Manifest It.

Affirmation: I affirm my affirmations with such confidence that even my doubts are like, ‘Okay fine, she clearly means business.’

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

The Day My Cats Politely Invited Chuckles Schumer & Hakeem Jeffries to Go Sit Down Somewhere

“My cats said they’re not being dramatic. They’re simply providing live‑action accountability theatre, and honestly I believe them.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Let the ancestors pull up a folding chair and witness this foolishness with us. Because today? Oh, today my cats have decided democracy needs a tune‑up, a talking‑to, and possibly a timeout. 

 I woke up this morning thinking I was going to drink my coffee in peace, maybe stare out the window like a Victorian widow waiting on a ship that ain’t coming. But no. My cats had other plans. These furry little Mississippi revolutionaries marched into my kitchen like they were about to brief the United Nations. Tails high, whiskers twitching, and a level of determination usually reserved for toddlers with markers.

I was minding my business when my cats, Piper, Coco, and Tinkerbell, held what they called an “emergency household caucus.” Before I could even say “who knocked over the sweet tea,” they announced they had business with the corporate Democrats. That’s when I knew my day was already off the rails.

Piper strutted in first, tail high, wearing the expression of a cat who has read too many think pieces and is now dangerous. Coco followed, dragging a legal pad like she was preparing to depose somebody. Tinkerbell brought snacks because she believes all political action should include refreshments.

They hopped on the kitchen table like they were about to brief the press.

Piper began by saying, “Mother,” “we have concerns about the corporate Democrats.” Now, I don’t know who taught my cats the phrase corporate Democrats, but I suspect it was the ancestors. They stay whispering through these animals.

Coco cleared her throat. “We, the Feline Coalition for Chaos and Accountability, would like to formally request that Chuckles Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries step down from leadership.”

I blinked. “Step down? Why?”

Tinkerbell raised a paw like she was in Sunday school. “Because, Mother, they keep giving speeches that sound like they were written by a committee of tired interns and a malfunctioning printer. We deserve leadership with claws.”

Piper nodded vigorously. “Also, Chuckles keeps doing that thing where he smiles like he’s about to announce a sale on orthopedic shoes. It’s unsettling.”

Coco flipped her legal pad open. “And Hakeem Jeffries keeps delivering those alphabetized speeches like he’s auditioning for a Sesame Street reboot. We respect the craft, but the vibes are off.” I tried to reason with them. “Y’all can’t just tell national leaders to step down.”

Piper: “Why not? They tell everybody else what to do.”

Coco: “We’re simply offering them the opportunity to rest. They look tired. They look like they need a sabbatical and a weighted blanket.”

Tinkerbell: “And a casserole. They need a casserole.”

Then Piper hopped onto the counter, puffed her chest out, and declared, “We propose a new era of leadership, The Cat Majority.” Coco added, “We will govern with transparency, accountability, and snacks.” Tinkerbell chimed in, “And naps. Mandatory naps.”

At this point, the ancestors were laughing so hard I could feel the floorboards vibrating. The cats drafted a letter paw‑printed, of course, inviting Chuckles and Hakeem to “step aside gracefully and go enjoy a nice porch swing somewhere.” They even offered to send them home with a starter pack that consists of  a quilt, a jar of pickles, and a coupon for a free cat cuddle.

“Mother,” Piper said, “we’re not trying to be rude. We’re trying to be helpful.” Coco nodded. “Sometimes leadership means knowing when to pass the laser pointer.”

These cats stay teaching boundary wisdom. So, if you hear rumors that three Mississippi cats have launched a political action committee dedicated to refreshing Democratic leadership, just know that I tried to stop them. I really did. And they personally asked me to leave you with this, “May your leaders be bold, your snacks be plentiful, and your naps be protected by law.”

And that’s how I found myself standing in my own kitchen, barefoot, holding a biscuit, watching my cats draft a politely chaotic memo encouraging national leaders to go sit down somewhere and rest their spirits. I didn’t approve it, but I also didn’t stop it. Because honestly? Once the Feline Caucus for Accountability gets rolling, even the ancestors step back and say, “Baby, let them handle it.”  

If you hear rustling in the political bushes, don’t worry. It’s just my cats, armed with clipboards, snacks, and the audacity of creatures who sleep 18 hours a day but still think everyone else needs to do better.

In the end, after all the paw‑pointing, clipboard slapping, and snack‑based deliberations, my cats looked me dead in my human face and said, “Mother, sometimes leadership just needs to rotate like a cast‑iron skillet.” Then they sashayed off with tails high, and whiskers smug. And leaving me standing in my own kitchen like a confused extra in a political reboot of The Aristocats. And that’s when it hit me. If three house cats with no jobs, no taxes, and no respect for closed doors can demand accountability with this much confidence, then surely the rest of us can too. And with that, the Feline Caucus adjourned. Mic dropped. Claws retracted. And democracy slightly improved. Thanks for reading! Keep resisting. And ask for a change in leadership.

Affirmation: “Today I move with the confidence of a cat knocking something off the counter. Unbothered, intentional, and fully prepared to blame gravity.”

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife

darnold1975

The Girls And Their New Year’s “Revolutions”

“Every day is Caturday.”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to tell you about what the girls have decided that their new year’s resolutions will be. 

Copeland asked me one day, “Momma what are Coco, Tink and Piper’s new year’s revolutions?” Not really paying attention I asked, “What did you say?” He repeated, “What are Tink, Coco, and Piper’s New Year’s “Revolutions?” I start giggling. He said, “Why are you laughing?” I told him, “Baby boy, that’s New Year’s Resolutions not Revolutions.” To which he replied, “Can you please find out?” So, this story is my quest for answers.

Me: “Girls! Come here, please!”

Piper: “Coming momma!”

Coco: “Me too!”

Tink: “Me three!”

The sound of the jingling of the bell on their collars is always anticipated

  Me: “Thank you, girls. So, brother Copeland wants me to ask you a question. He wants to know what your New Year’s “Revolutions” are?

Piper: “What’s that?”

Coco: “Momma, my revolutions are around the snack cart only?”

Tink:  “You’re a dork. Momma, could you explain to me what that is?”

Me: “Well, it’s what you want to challenge yourself to do for the New Year.”

Coco: “That’s easy. I want to seize control over the world’s supply of catnip.”

Tink: “I want to learn how to fly and be a bird.”

Coco: “Omg! Was that a serious answer?”

Tink: “Hush it grumpy.”

Me: “Ok, Piper it’s your turn. Piper get still and be serious!”

Piper: “But momma, I’m just playing with the leftover bows and wrapping paper.”

Me: “You can do that in a minute. Your little brother wanted me to ask you about what you want to change for the new year. It’s called a New Year’s Resolution.”

Piper: “I want to enter an American Ninja Warrior competition.”

Me: “Piper, you’re too young.”

Piper: “Ummmm, ok. Well, how about taking more selfies?”

Me: “Let’s just say that maybe working on manners. And why do you want to take more selfies?”

Piper: “Because people think I’m cute!”

Me: “Fair enough little girl. Coco, do you have another resolution?”

Coco: “More catnip.”

Me: “Really? Like you couldn’t come up with another one?”

Coco: “I just do not want to be bothered and have my own personal supply of cookies, catnip, and lizards. You know I’m pretty much a professional at catching lizards.”

Me: “Yes. But only if you’re the only one in the room.”

Piper: “Yea, Coco. You need to share your lizards.”

Tink: “Momma, what are your New Year’s Resolutions?”

Me: “Probably, just authoring more stories about you all. I would also like to spend more time with your brothers. And I have a big surprise for this year.”

Coco, Tink and Piper: “Oh we like surprises. What is it?”

Me: “Well, it’s a surprise.”

Coco: “Momma, you can’t tell us that you have a surprise and then not tell us. It’s against the rules.”

Me: “Rules of what?”

Coco: “Well, I do live in the United States of Coco. And in the cat bible of instructions it’s specifically states, “You are not allowed to speak of surprises and not instantly tell us what it is. And that is found in 1 Coco 24:7.”

Me: “Big problem. I’m not a cat.”

Coco: “That’s right. I feel sorry for you. Because cats are the highest beings on earth.”

Me: “Have you ever seen me on 420? Because I would put that statement to the test. Ok. Does anyone have something else they need to say in this family meeting?”

Tink: “Well, momma, I would like to bite the big orange turd in the White House directly in his swollen cankles.”

Me: “I think most people in our country could agree on that. For right now though, let’s just work on becoming an even happier family.”

Piper: “But what about my brothers?”

Me:  “Baby, your brothers will always be a part of our family.”

Affirmation: There is no one else in the world I would rather be.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Merry Christmas From Piper, Coco, And Tink

“You had me at meow.”

-Unknown

Piper: “When’s our next holiday?”

Me: “Funny you should ask. It is called Christmas.”

Piper: “And what happens then?”

Me: “Well, it’s another holiday where we spend time together as a family. Except this time, we leave catnip and treats out for Kitty Claus.”

Piper: “What does Kitty Claus do?”

Me: “He brings toys and snacks to all the cats all over the world.”

Piper: “Whoa! How does he do all of that?”

Me: “Well, Kitty Claus has a sleigh that’s magically powered by catnip. And then while all the cats are sleeping, he comes to where they are and leaves out gifts. And then he goes to the next area. And we leave out snacks with some tuna juice out to make sure he doesn’t get too hungry.”

Piper: “Oh, momma. What a great idea! I just love Kitty Claus.”

Me: “But have you been good this year?”

Piper: “Momma, I have been the best. Coco hasn’t because she’s grouchy and has been smacking me ever since I had my surgery.”

Me:  “Weren’t you around a lot of other animals?”

Piper: “Yes ma’am.”

Me: “When you come home and you smell funny, sometimes it scares other cats. Plus, you were definitely “bobbing and weaving.” And the smell of other animals stays in your fur for a while. And when you come home and start swatting  things in the air that aren’t there it is kind of understandable. Don’t you think? 

Piper: “You mean to tell me that I smell like a dog too?”

Me: “Ummmm….Yes you do!”

Coco: “Hello. I do have my own voice. Let me explain something little feline. I smelled the residue of a thermometer and those horrible dogs on you. Do you want to smell like those things?”

Piper: “Oh. I never want to smell like them. They are definitely the lesser of the animal species. And by the way, I was smelling colors and playing with butterflies.”

Tink: “Yea the ones that were not visible to the rest of us. But it’s ok. We did the same thing after our surgeries. It’s ok, kiddo. Coco is the oldest and, by far, the grouchiest.”

Piper: “I love you two. Ya’ll are the best! You teach me so many things. How are my manners?”

Coco: “There is always room for improvement.”

Tink: “Coming from the one who walks across momma in the mornings always putting her internal organs are risk? And the one who breaks into the tub where the cookies stay, and helps herself to a buffet?”

Me: “Ok girls. That’s enough. Everyone makes mistakes and Piper is still learning. But Coco, that does hurt when you walk across me in the mornings.”

Coco: “When I’m starving, my vision starts to become blurry. So, I need to be able to wake you up to feed me so that it doesn’t become permanent.”

Me: “Coco, you are not losing vision from being hungry. And I do not do things based on your inability to be patient.”

Tink: “Piper, you are doing better.”

Piper: “Thank you, Big Sissy. Momma, can we put out the yummies?”

Me: “Yes we can. And then ya’ll need to go to sleep so that Kitty Claus will bring your gifts.”

Coco: “Fine. But I need more cookies.”

Me: “Ok everyone needs to use the litter box and decide where they want to sleep.”

Tink: “I’m sleeping in front of the heater.”

Coco: “Oh me too.”

Piper: “Oh, I want to sleep in front of the heater too. Momma, come help me. I want to hurry and get into bed so that Kitty Clause brings my toys and snacks. Will you hold me while I go to sleep?”

Me: “The problem with that is that you will never get still. And then you just start chewing on my fingers.”

Piper: “That’s because they’re my binky.”

Me: “Well, don’t use my fingers as your binky. Go use the litter box.”

A few moments later

Piper: “Ok, momma. Wow! It looks great!”

Me: “Ok baby. Let’s go get in the recliner and I’ll hold you for a few minutes.”

Piper: “Yippee! Night big sissies!”

Coco and Tink: “Good night Piper.”

Piper took several minutes to gently lick and then chew my fingers while also being squirmy. I put her on her bed. All of the girls began taking their final baths for the day. And I watched videos on my phone. After several minutes, I looked up to find them all sound asleep. My family finally felt complete. Things get loud and crazy with the boys and the cats. But I smiled and realized, at that very moment, what Christmas was all about. It’s not about how much catnip and treats that you own. It’s about the type of unconditional love that can only come from some humans and all animals. And despite what the world might think, Coco, Tink, and Piper, love me no matter what.

Affirmation: I am worth treats and adoration.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs

“That is what I call open, honest and direct communication.”
“Where in the world do random cows fall off cliffs?”

“Really?! They needed a sign to remind E.T. to buckle up?”

“Seriously? Why are you advertising this? Are there that many people who want to join?”

“Apparently, the Mississippi state bird has been busy.”

“What is it with alligators?! They don’t need mushrooms. They need weed to help with that aggression.

“Thanks for the warning!”

“So does this mean what if you go down the ramp in a scooter you would be safe? Gators be like, “Can’t eat them, it’s not a wheelchair.”

“Umm why can’t I breathe under the water?”

“Ha! I’ll be on the lookout for invisible cows.”

I can’t decide if the octopus wants to continue playing or needs my help. It’s looking at me. But i have no idea what it’s trying to say.”

“Aw man! There goes my fun time at the festival. Who does this?!”

“I need to put this on my front door for when the boys come to visit.”

“Ok right before I die, I’ll do that.”

“Ok well that’s the most visible, non-working sign I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not sure why that animal attacks vehicles at random. But I do know that it needs to go out on some pants. Mr Animal I see your too-lo-li.”

“Some of the best comedy available.”

“Best caption ever!”

“Most Accurate Sign Of The Year!”

I hope you’ve enjoyed some laughs like I have. Sometimes you have to take timeout to laugh. Thanks for reading! And please share with a friend.

Affirmation: I allow myself to laugh often and without guilt.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Piper’s Spay Day

“A happy arrangement: many people prefer cats to other people and many cats prefer people to other cats.”

 -Mason Cooley

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. Today, I want to tell you about a situation that occurred. And, well, it was concerning the specific moment when I had to tell Piper that she was going to get spayed.

Me: “Piper!”

Piper: “Coming momma!”

Me: “What were you three doing?”

Piper: “I had just jumped on Tink’s back and was biting her head. And she was getting mad at me.”

Me: “Well, I need to talk to you about something?”

Coco: “Me and Tink are on the way, momma.”

Me: “Well, it might be good to have you here for support.”

Tink: “Uh-oh. Is everything ok?”

Piper: “What’s the matter momma?”

Me: “Well, when you get to be a certain age you need to have a surgery.”

Tink: “Oh yes! Snip, snip little girl.”

Coco: “Snip! Snip! And it’s going to hurt really bad.”

Me: “Tink! Coco! Ya’ll stop. You’re going to scare her.”

(Piper begins sobbing)

Piper: “Momma, why do you want to make me hurt?”

Me: “Coco and Tink, why did you say that?”

Piper: “Momma, I’m scared!”

Me: “Look, calm down a second. When you get to be a certain age, you must have a surgery to remove your kitten maker.”

Coco: “Snip! Snip!”

Me: “Coco, stop it! Piper, they give you some medicine to make you go to sleep so that you don’t even know that it’s going on.”

Piper: “But momma. What if I wanted to be a momma one day?”

Me: “Piper let me explain something to you. Momma cats don’t just have one kitten. If they had just one, you could have a kitten, and it could live with us. Momma cats have anywhere from 8-12 babies at a time. And we wouldn’t able to keep them. It would be harder on you if I took your babies away from you after you had already bonded with them.”

Piper: “So you’re not doing this to be mean to me?”

Me: “No baby. Tink and Coco did the same thing. And it helps keep you healthier the older you get. If you had a lot of babies and we couldn’t find homes for them all, we would have to take them to the shelter. And there are already too many puppies and kittens who have to do that. I’m just trying to make it easier on you and all of us by doing this. Think about it. If you had 8 kittens. Coco had 8 kittens. And Tink had 8 kittens. What would we have?”

Piper: “A crowd?”

Me: “Yes. And I wouldn’t be able to care for that many.”

Piper: “Ok. Well, I don’t want to be a momma cat to that many babies. But I’m still scared.”

Me: “I know you are. But I will go with you.”

Piper: “You promise?”

Me: “Unless, of course, you know how to drive a vehicle.”

Piper: “No way.”

Me: “I promise you might be a little scared. But you will be fine. And I will go get you whenever they say that you’re safe to come back home. And then we can cuddle, ok?”

Piper: “Ok. Please don’t forget about me.”

Me: “Don’t worry. Me and your sisters would never forget about you.”

Tink: “Piper, we were just messing with you. You will be fine. If you get scared, just ask “tha Jesus” to make you not scared.”

Coco: “Yea, kid. We were just playing with you. I was a little sleepy and sore afterwards. But the doctors will give you some medicine to make you not hurt but just a little bit.”

Piper: “Will you and Tink go with me?”

Coco: “Heck no!”

Piper: “Why not?”

Tink: “Because they take your temperature.”

Piper: “What does that mean?”

Me: “They just want to make sure that you don’t have a fever which would mean that you were sick.”

Piper: “Ok. Well, that doesn’t seem bad.”

(Coco now mumbling)

Coco: “That’s what you think.”

Piper: “What?”

 Me: “Coco hush up. Piper, you will be fine.”

Piper: “Ok. Thank ya’ll for explaining things. I feel better. I love you big sissies.”

Coco and Tink: “We love you too, Piper.”

I’m writing this the day after Piper’s surgery. She did fine. And when I picked her up from the vet, except for the fact that she was still a little bit woozy and moving around like she had eaten an entire container of cannabis edibles, she did extremely well. Piper and Tink hissed at her for the next four hours because she and her carrier smelled like Noah’s ark from being around so many other animals, I am currently writing with two of them in my lap. Remember to always spay and neuter your animals. Thanks for reading!

Affirmation: I know when to curl up for a good nap

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife

darnold1975

Piper’s First Holiday Season

“What greater gift than the love of a cat?”

-Unknown

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. Negative energy go away. This holiday season is Piper’s first. And I have never seen her so happy. She has played so hard with big sisters Coco and Tinkerbell. And I actually saw Coco, the self-assigned mayor of my house, grooming Piper so much that  now Piper will randomly walk over to her and put her head down for a little touch up throughout the day. And she is very inquisitive about everything. Check out this conversation!

Piper: “Momma?”

Me: “Yes Piper.”

Piper: “I have so much fun when my brothers come to visit.”

Me: “I know. I do too.”

(I could see the wheels in her little feline brain turning.)

Piper: “Momma, do you know what my favorite time is?”

Me: “Tell me.”

Piper: “It’s when they go home. Those are the best naps ever.”

Me: “Well, little miss you better find some energy because it’s holiday season.”

Piper: “What was it called when we had food all day long?”

Me: “Ummmm…420?”

Piper: “What is that?”

Me: “That’s when we celebrate my “stinky” medicine.”

Piper: “No. It was not long ago.”

Me: “Thanksgiving?”

Piper: “What does that mean?”

Me: “Well, it’s supposed to be about giving thanks for blessings in your life. And spending time with family.”

Piper: “Well, I spent lots of time with my family.”

Me: “ We all love you too. And you were perfect for our family.”

Piper:  “I’m thankful that I survived. And I now have my very own family.”

Me: “Awe, we love you too, Piper.”

Piper: “Yummy! What is that?”

Me: “Piper you can’t jump into my plate!!!”

Piper: “Why not? I just want to see it. Smell it. And lick it.”

Me: “Ma’am, you must learn some manners.”

Piper: “But it smells so good. And it makes me hungry.”

Me: “Piper, people do not like cats who are overly nosy especially when their eating.”

Piper: “But I’m just a baby kitty.”

Me: “Stop being cute, right now!”

Piper: “But momma, I can’t help it.”

Me: “I will give you a bite. But you have to wait until I’m ready.”

(Approximately 30 seconds goes by and she starts swatting at my hand.)

Me: “Piper stop trying to grab my food! and stay out of my drink!

Piper: “I’m trying to do Thanksgiving.”

Me: “Coco, Tink, come get your sister!”

(I soon hear jingling bells alerting me to there whereabouts.)

Coco: “On my way momma!”

Tink: “Me too!”

(They come running and gasp when they see me.)

Tink: “Piper, No!!!!”

Coco: “Holy Catnip! What are you doing?!”

Piper: “I just want a bite.”

Coco: “Get down here, Piper!”

Piper: “What now?!”

Coco: “First come here. Your catlick is all messed up.”

(Coco begins grooming Piper.)

Tink: “Piper, you cannot do that! Never ever jump in momma’s  plate. She will give you a bite. But you can’t rush her because she’ll go crazy. Do you want to be sprayed with the water bottle?”

Piper: “Heck No!”

Tink: “Yea. We don’t like it either. We just stop doing what got us sprayed.”

Piper: “Oh ok. I’m just hungry.”

Tink: “If you stop, and sit there quiet like you’re supposed to that’s called manners.”

Piper: “Wow! How do you know all of that?”

Coco: “Because we were kittens once too.”

Piper: “I’m so glad you guys are my family. Who else would give me baths?”

Coco and Tink: “We love you too.”

Coco: “We just want you to grow up and be a successful grown cat like we are.”

Piper: “Happy Holidays, big sissies!”

Coco and Tink: “Happy Holidays and catnip dreams to you Piper!”

Affirmation: I will not hesitate to ask for what I need.

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#Thispuzzledlife