pour it in my hands for a dime
Five out of seven nights, Mason and or Jeremiah grumps their way down out long hall and heads to our room. Once within the inner sanctum, they'll either wedge themselves between Lawson and me on our queen sized bed or dangle off the bottom, thereby reducing the bed's length to about 4.5 feet. This makes it necessary for us all to assume the fetal position .
Both these wily maneuvers are successfully done when their scraggly, sharp toenails slice and tear at our skin as well as the covers, snagging and damaging both. If we were super lazy that morning, the bail out futon will still be flopped open at the foot of our bed. When that's the case, one of us will literally kick until the intruder rolls onto the padded pacifier below. That is the best possible outcome for this scenario. Until we put a lock on the door. Or until they relocate with a their spouses.
A couple of nights ago, Jeremiah began his trek to the back of the house. I could hear the 98 year old wooden planks creaking and groaning. Half conscious, I cringed as the door opened. We have no illusion of privacy. The door was closed to keep the blood sucking, parkour enabled kitten from doing more damage to our extremities than M and J do with their unmanicured toes. Children and pets. Just adorable.
Much to my surprise, J Bear was only after a drink of water. Forget that their bathroom has plumbing. In fact, I noticed the other day Mason had put a turbo thruster from their GI Joe Space Shuttle on the edge of the sink. He is an industrious one. BEHOLD! A cup. Yet here Jeremiah was, shambling to our wing of the manor. Before he could even make it past the computer, I rerouted him to the kitchen.
Half asleep, he banged and puttered around, looking for a cup. Now, I'm not the ideal house keeper by any stretch, but I know we had clean dishes in the cabinets. Even if we didn't , that other turbo thruster was in the play room right next to the kitchen. Anyhow, I went in to offer assistance and to wrap this project. By that time he was already over at the sink looking a little disappointed. On the counter was a plate with drops of water on it. In his hand was an identical plate he had under the running faucet. He became a little irritated when I started chuckling as I watched him try to lap water from the plate as if a small mammal.
He's lucky I got a glass down from the higher cabinet. After getting those two plates dirty and all, I should have sent him back to bed with a hand print on his behind. And thirsty.
Both these wily maneuvers are successfully done when their scraggly, sharp toenails slice and tear at our skin as well as the covers, snagging and damaging both. If we were super lazy that morning, the bail out futon will still be flopped open at the foot of our bed. When that's the case, one of us will literally kick until the intruder rolls onto the padded pacifier below. That is the best possible outcome for this scenario. Until we put a lock on the door. Or until they relocate with a their spouses.
A couple of nights ago, Jeremiah began his trek to the back of the house. I could hear the 98 year old wooden planks creaking and groaning. Half conscious, I cringed as the door opened. We have no illusion of privacy. The door was closed to keep the blood sucking, parkour enabled kitten from doing more damage to our extremities than M and J do with their unmanicured toes. Children and pets. Just adorable.
Much to my surprise, J Bear was only after a drink of water. Forget that their bathroom has plumbing. In fact, I noticed the other day Mason had put a turbo thruster from their GI Joe Space Shuttle on the edge of the sink. He is an industrious one. BEHOLD! A cup. Yet here Jeremiah was, shambling to our wing of the manor. Before he could even make it past the computer, I rerouted him to the kitchen.
Half asleep, he banged and puttered around, looking for a cup. Now, I'm not the ideal house keeper by any stretch, but I know we had clean dishes in the cabinets. Even if we didn't , that other turbo thruster was in the play room right next to the kitchen. Anyhow, I went in to offer assistance and to wrap this project. By that time he was already over at the sink looking a little disappointed. On the counter was a plate with drops of water on it. In his hand was an identical plate he had under the running faucet. He became a little irritated when I started chuckling as I watched him try to lap water from the plate as if a small mammal.
He's lucky I got a glass down from the higher cabinet. After getting those two plates dirty and all, I should have sent him back to bed with a hand print on his behind. And thirsty.
posted by becky at 12:46 PM
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