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Domesticated.

Well it’s happened again. I’ve turned into Mr. Homemaker. Earl went to play poker with a bunch of buddies tonight so I did the following:

  • Finished all the laundry, including the placemats on the kitchen table and the towels in the guest room.
  • Made tomorrow night’s supper of vegetable stew.
  • Made four dozen cookies to take to work tomorrow in honor of our department tripling in size as we combine technical teams.
  • Divided out my Progresso soup into individual, easy to pack lunches for work this week.
  • Changed Tom’s litter box.
  • Swept the kitchen floor. (Notice I didn’t get crazy and announce that I had mopped the floor, however sweeping is a start).

I don’t know what’s going on with me. We don’t have a party planned in the future, no one is coming to visit and I haven’t the vaguest idea of whether the planets are aligned or not. I just feel like cleaning the house.

Oh well. The activity is a good excuse for exercise.

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Arise.




Arise.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Every morning Tom and I go through this little ritual before getting out of bed. He has to rake my beard with his claws or tap at various parts of my face until I am up and out of bed and downstairs filling his bowl with food. Of course I have to make a pitstop on the way down, so he just sits on the edge of the tub and screeches his dissatisfaction with my going the bathroom.

Thankfully, he’s the only creature that’s ‘screeched’ at the sight of my dink.

What I find curious is that while I was in Massachusetts this week, Earl did not have to go through the same sort of routine. Apparently Tom patiently waited for Earl to get out of bed, do his thing, take a shower and get dressed before getting his kitty chow breakfast.

I think we know who does the spoiling in this family.