The Sober Husband is off at a conference, being wined and dined and wooed by people who would dearly love to lure him away from his employer, St. Doggyo, and generally having his (already largeish) ego stroked. (I also have a large ego, but it doesn't get as much stroking, sigh, except in the home, where the children markedly prefer me to him. I always imagined that if we ever procreated together, the children would adore their candy-toting, funny and handsome father and despise their evil, controlling mother, but in reality, they're all about the lazy but authoritative Drunken Housewife).
I'm home with what feels like six thousand cats (it's not kitten season yet, but I've taken in an undersocialized feral cat from a different rescue group who couldn't get her adopted out and who then turned to that crack team of crazy cat ladies, my rescue group; plus a cat with a wonky eye and uncurable wheezing; on top of the regular cats; plus my ex-cat decided to move back in), two children, one usually screaming parrot, one aged rat in mourning (her cagemate passed away but yet lingers on in the freezer in a paper towel shroud encased in a ziplock freezer bag; owner Iris Uber Alles resists burial), and a quilt in progress, in a cluttered and disheveled house (I have been abstaining from housework on the rather questionable basis that my energy must be reserved for finishing this quilt, destined to be auctioned off to profit Lola's preschool).
What's most alarming is that at this moment, there is complete silence. God only knows what all those cats and children are up to. I just finished the Blood and Sand cocktails left for me by my husband so I would feel loved and nurtured in his absence, and I'm rather tipsy as I skipped lunch(I also skipped supper last night. I've been eating sporadically ever since the Great Food Poisoning Episode When The Blog Readers Came To Dinner, yet my weight loss remains slight. Incidentally Iris Uber Alles decided to read all the comments on the blog out loud today and, when informed that she'd met 2AM and Brown, let out a scream. I asked her to write a review of the blog readers in view of that strong reaction, but so far, no dice).
Silence, so scary, even to those of us feeling warm and relaxed due to the ministrations of Cherry Heering. I positively dread finding whatever those children and cats have got up to.
15 comments:
glad i could alleviate your silence somewhat!
I'm changing my name and leaving the country...
You can run but you can't hide, Brown.
oh, Lord have mercy, what all have I written on this thing?
LOL vodalus...
the wrath of iris is upon us all. we'll all be on the SList.
Did we ever get that blood and sand recipe?
*tapping foot impatiently*
Kim
*BOB* moved back in?!?!?!
Holy crap, that's awesome!
silence is always a little alarming at my house, as well. it never means anything good, at all.
Silence of the Lambs again?
Noise is bad but silence is worse.
OK, Then YOU follow up with at least 3 days of blog silence. Hmm, guess I'LL go down to check out the basement, Hughman, if I'm not back in a day, take everyone else,split up and check hidden spaces. That's the ticket, yeh.
I wonder just how many cocktails the Sober Husband left.
I'm worried that the raccoon has found the combination to the cat door and is feasting, oh it's too horrible to imagine!
this is all Iris's fault... KIDDING!!!!
I'm here, I'm here. I've just been busy finishing up the quilt I was doing for Lola's preschool auction, and when the S.H. is out of town, all the work falls on me (in reality, I let the house go to hell and the children run rampant, and the husband returns to quickly become super crabby).
It was only 2 cocktails left for me, sigh.
Iris has shown an unusual interest in the comments section recently...I think you're going to have to PROVE you are not IUA who may have taken over in SH's absence.
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