(Thanks, Chris, for the big ol’ link to the sleeping animals. I have now resorted to putting this up on my blog, and I am almost ashamed at how sweet it is. And now Chicken wants a rat. Dammit!)
Okay–I may have mentioned that the woman who brought Steve in to give her away as a rescue kitty was, well, three parts batshit, one part bugshit, and an extra dash of crazysauce. You want proof?
This cat is a real sweetie–but she’s also a real squirrel. Getting her to really cuddle–old fashioned, purr in your arms, tilt back her throat and willingly be your bitch cuddle–is all a matter of location.
To wit? The bathroom. Yup… she will follow me down the hall, push her inquisitive little pink nose through the door, take a running jump and catch up on the days events as I am sitting on the commode. She’ll stay there through fair, she’ll stay there through foul, and she’ll even stay there through Squish, who likes to cop a squat on the pile of clean laundry within viewing distance of the commode through the open door–and ask my why the cat loves me more than it loves her… Like I said.. batshit, bugshit, and crazysauce.
And in more news…
Chicken’s hair is now blue. Yup. Blue. And for the record, so were my hands. @@#$$ cheap-assed plastic gloves. I used to wonder why nice, middle aged women always had those yellow gloves around. I thought it was so they didn’t tweak out their hands as they scrubbed shit (as if that gets done around here) but now I know the truth. It’s so they could color their hair. And now we know.
And some shit Zoomboy knows…
He knows about pilgrims and stone soup and where Perry goes in Phineas and Ferb and what tones his new Thanksgiving song involves and what shape pizza is in and why Chuck E. Cheese is cool. (In case you’re wondering about that last one? It’s because that’s where he’s having his birthday.
And why Squish is gonna take over the world before she can read…
Mama?
Yeah?
Look, they’re taking the plants out of the dirt.
(Mom clears the taking-kids-to-school-haze out of her eyes, and actually looks sideways.) Yup, Squish, they’re going to switch them up for some plants that do better in the winter, so that the flowers don’t look so sad.
Now, flash forward seven hours…
Mama?
Yeah?
Look, all the new plants are in.
(And, sure enough, we’re back at the same intersection, which I had totally forgotten about until she reminded me.)
Well, aren’t you clever to notice that.
Mama?
Yeah Squish?
I’m gonna go home and plant a tree. Everybody should plant a tree. Trees are good.
(Well, she’s got us there, right? Trees are good!)
And why Date Night was a success…
1. We put it off from Thursday to Friday. (Yes, I know that means we had to DVR Supernatural, but, dammit, there was nothing but crap out last night, and things looked better tonight!)
2. We saw an awesome movie. (Unstoppable. We thought it was gonna be dumb. Turns out, Tony Scott knows how to direct a movie about really big objects. Go Tony!)
3. I saw a Jon Stewart episode that he did not. Something about quoting Harrison Ford when he told Stewart that his movie was “Fucking Brilliant” on the Daily Show made the two of crack up for most of dinner.
Voila! Successful date!
