Yesterday, we ate at a local Vietnamese restaurant with good friends. As always, I bounced paranoid thoughts off my friend. What happens if someone breaks in the house while we're home, which kid do I save first if the house is on fire or our safety is threatened, and what happens if the kids are left home alone and I'm in a car wreck, incapacitated, and unable to communicate that my kids are by themselves? Recently, there was a hit and run that involved a runner and he wasn't identified for 4 hours because he was unconscious, had run without an ID, and his wife didn't report him missing until well after he had been hit. What would happen if I went out for a long run and a similar incident occurred? Although I know that this line of thinking may sound ridiculous, I know for a fact that many women in my same situation have these thoughts at some point during their separations. Long story short, I was up late last night, unable to sleep as usual, and kept hearing random noises. At first I thought one of the kids had gotten up, but closer inspection revealed they were sound asleep. Paranoia started to set in when the sporadic noises kept continuing and I couldn't find the source. I knew the locks were triple and double locked, but I decided to recheck all the doors because I wouldn't be able to sleep with worries cascading through my mind. I made my way to the living room to check the back door and I discovered the cat who thinks he's a dog attempting his best Sophie impersonation while his cohort silently watched the spectacle. I'm glad I caught him because who knows how many bones he would have sampled in an effort to freshen his breath.
He didn't care that I caught him. He just kept powering through.
I'm not giving up. I will eat this bone.
He gave it his best effort, but he just couldn't do it.
Who needs opposable thumbs? Not the rescue puma.
It takes a lot of energy to slit open a bag of bones in an attempt to defeat halitosis while channeling your inner dog.
While watching Three's Company today, I had a sudden epiphany.
We decorate like we live in a 70's sitcom.
Operation Build Dad's Lego has begun.
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