Well, the big day is here. Dad leaves this morning for Minnesota to meet his first grandchild. Baby Elijah was born in March, and dad can't wait to see him. It's also been over two years since dad's seen his boys, and this weekend should be lots of fun for them.
Mom will be here catering to my every whim, and dad's making me promise to stay out of the bedroom until at least seven while he's gone so she can catch up on some sleep. I'm still doing what dad wrote about the other day. Two days ago it was two a.m. Yesterday it was three-something again. This morning I decided to wait until four-ish. Whatever. I've overheard them talking about closing their door at night, but that's been done before and all it did was make me claw at the bottom of the door and voice my annoyance even more.
Deal with it, mom and pop. I run things around here, so get over it. And dad, just so you know- whispering "Shhhh!" or "Be quiet!" means absolutely nothing to me. All I hear is that buzzing noise that I know mom hears when you launch into one of your tedious, drawn-out technical explanations that she so loves.
Anyway, have a safe trip, dad, say hi to the boys for me, and don't worry about me and mom. We look forward to some peace will miss you, and will make the most of our quiet time can't wait til you get home!
Wow, it's been four years today since my uncle left.
As I think I mentioned in an old post dad couldn't keep me at one point some years ago, so his brother took me in to live with him and his girlfriend in her house, and it didn't take long for me to grow on them.
There were several other cats and two dogs living there, which was kind of uncomfortable for me. I grew kind of reclusive (that's a word, right?) and kept to myself, hiding under and behind furniture most of the time.
Once in a while dad would come to visit, and I wouldn't come out to see him. I was so mad, and didn't understand the whole situation.
One of the two dogs there was a little weird. He had a thing for this stuffed bear, a habit most would find odd. Well, I'm sure there are some who wouldn't find this so... never mind. Anyway, this dog would lay there, dry-humping (can I say that?) this poor toy. I guess you had to see it.
My point is that I wasn't so very happy with the living arrangements there, but I did look forward to sleeping between my uncle and his girlfriend, much the way I do now with mom and dad.
Well, my uncle passed away, leaving us in September of 2008. I think of him often, and we all miss him a lot. In spite of all the other animals they had I'll always remember the abundance of love they had for us.
When mom and dad decided to foster poor Grayson I was reminded of dad's brother and his girlfriend. She fostered little ones through the Dakin Pioneer Valley Humane Society, often caring for several at one time.
Anyway, I just miss my uncle. That's all. Goodbye.
Oh, how I wish I could teach orbit how to tell time. That's not asking much, is it? As much as we love this old fart, his shitty sense of timing can get very, very annoying at times.
I'm a hopeless early riser, even when I don't want or need to be, but there are times when- and this morning was one of those times- I'd really like to sleep until at least five. Is that so much to ask, ORBIT??!!
Even at his age a lot of what he does is "cute", and one of our favorite things is his habit of head-butting. We usually get at least one or two a day each, and he's learned that he has to head-butt one of us (usually me, sorry honey!) before he can settle into his favorite spot between my wife's legs for the night. This morning, for whatever reason, he needed a head-butt fix somewhere between three thirty and four, and when he gets something in his head he becomes extremely determined.
We'll take whatever "cute" we can get out of him at this point in his life, but at that hour it's a little difficult to think "cute". He kept going back and forth between (and over, and around and back again) us on the bed, alternating head-butts against our foreheads and noses. I don't know if he was trying to tell us something (I often find myself wishing he could talk- life with him would be so much easier) or he was just feeling particularly loving. Whatever the reason, it was hard to get back to sleep, even after HE settled comfortably in my lap and nodded right off, almost at once soaking his paw and the comforter with drool.
I have to be at work in about two hours, and, as with every other day, I have to be productive. I'll start out bristling with energy as usual, but by lunch time I'm sure my ass will be dragging, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, ORBIT!
But I LOVE you! This qualifier is something my wife and I throw in after insulting one another, usually in jest (right?) Like, "...you're an idiot, but I LOVE you!" "You don't know what you're talking about, but I LOVE you!" You get the point, right?
I'm sitting here trying to tie this up and thinking about breakfast, and orbit's in the bedroom all nice and curled up next to my finally-back-to-sleep wife, in the nice warm spot I left when I got out of bed.
