Jungle life.

To avoid confusion, I will clarify: I have 2 really good friends named Julie. Since I have now reconnected with one of the Julies through the blessed society of Facebook, I will from now on refer to them as Julie R and Julie K. Julie R is my childhood Norwegian friend, while Julie K is my long-lost Californian friend.

Julie K has many incredible talents. Just to name a few: She's a great dancer. She is witty. She is creative. And she has the ability to talk in her sleep. I find this rather amazing and above all amusing. (She once confessed to me in her sleep that she hates Germans. I'm just saying.)

During one of her trips to Norway, we spent some time at my Grandparents' house. One night she sat up in her bed bewildered and confused, and proclaimed that there was a lion in the house. (She was referring to my Grandfather's rather loud and roaring snoring in the room next to ours.)

20+ years later I can totally see why she would think that, though. Have you ever slept next to someone that snores really loud? Not just the little occational nose grunt, I'm talking about the full-out roar. The roar that starts with the inhale and is fully completed through the exhale. The kind of roar that will wake up the other jungle animals. Well, I have. In fact, I sleep next to a lion every night.

The slow moving mother sloth, the long legged 7 year old flamingo and the energetic 2 year old monkey in this jungle will just have to get used to His roars I guess. Because when it all boils down to it, a jungle is incomplete without a King.

In the jungle, the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight,
in the jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight

Ee-e-e-um-um-a-weh

Wemoweh, wemoweh, wemoweh, wemoweh

Ee-e-e-um-um-a-weh

Wemoweh, wemoweh, wemoweh, wemoweh