I’m 7.5 months old, and I’m already going before a judge. I thought I’d have at least two or three years under my Sansabelt before I started having court dates, but on Thursday, June 16, I will be dressed in my finest jump-a-roo and becoming an US citizen. And by that, I mean that my adoption will be certified, bona fide, official, legal, and too legit, too legit to quit.

I’m pretty sure there will be a parade to follow with exotic animals, decorative floats, marching bands, fireworks, confetti bazookas, military fly-overs and vendor carts peddling the finest carnie food this side of the Red River.

That’s all well and good, but I shall celebrate this occasion modestly with my patented Crap ‘n’ Nap.