I don't know if you heard, but mama is trying to write a novel in a month. I guess there's a group of people inside her glowy box who think writing is cool and fun or something (seriously, have they tried playing with a sock?) and they all talk to each other blah blah blah.
How about she tries giving me treats every day for a month. Or playing with me? Or walking me?
Yeah, yeah, she does do that, but really? A whole month for writing? That's just silly.