About 7 this morning I crawled into bed with only one third of my family of three, whom I have affectionately dubbed The Three Stooges. Gracie, my four year old long haired tortoiseshell aka terror on paws, was under the bed hiding from the storm. Captain tried to fit his big o’body under there too but it didn’t work. Where was Bella? She was right at the window watching the lightning show.
So how is Captain Crunch these days? He’s well enough to bite a salesman who did not heed the “Beware of Dog” sign in my yard or the yard next door. Anyone bitten twice in the same day should hang it up and go home but did he, nope. The man hung around until someone called the police. They arrested the man. I have no idea why but they did. A patty wagon came and dragged his scrawny self out of here.
After last nights storm I believe my house can be considered lake front property. I have also come to believe that just like a chattering child, Captain pants just because he likes the sound of his own panting. And I have concluded that Grace is not a stupid cat she’s brazen. She does not care that she’s not supposed to be on the table. She hasn’t forgotten that she can’t come in my office and spread her silky fur all over everything. Still she jumps right up on the table to come see me. Still she runs in the door when it’s open and tries to sleep under the china cabinet behind me. I use to think, “What on earth is wrong with you? I’m sitting right here. Why would you get on the table with me sitting right here?” I thought maybe it was because she’s a tad bit slow but nope, she’s not slow, she’s brazen. She knows, she hasn’t forgotten, she just doesn’t care that she’s not to come in here or get on the table.
Now, onto someone else’s kids…. at Dairy Queen the other day Holiday got a phone call from her daughter K. The conversation went like this, “Mama, if I don’t’ get some chocolate I’m gonna kill somebody! Don’t forget to bring home some chocolate.” Holiday told her she couldn’t possibly forget to bring home chocolate when she kept calling to remind her. All the efforts to calm this 12 year old drama queen were for naught. Holiday said, “What is wrong with you?” Her reply? “Mama, I’m bloated.” Holiday said, “K, you’re on speaker phone.” That very moment sealed it for me, I must never have children other than the furry one’s I have now. At least I can legally make my kids sleep on the porch.
The Stooges Three
Saturday, June 07, 2008-2:07PM EST
Thanks for the laugh.