Let's see. The weekend. There was the afternoon I left some cat food cans in the dishwater to soak. Later that day, I was rinsing the cans and chatting with Texas when I made that final sweep through the dishwater with my hand, as you do, to check and see if there's anything you missed. And I came up with ... a dead mouse.
"Oh!" I gasped. And Texas, who was in the living room behind me, said, "Rocky! What's wrong?"
"Oh ... nothing," I replied, grabbing a bowl to put the mouse in until I could toss it outside. Successful recovery! Although later that night, I did confess to her what had happened. Because that's what sisters do. We share. Ha.
And then there was the morning when Texas bent over to pick up what she thought was a clump of leaves on the floor, which turned out to be ... a dead bird.
*sigh* Those cats!
And I guess we don't need to talk about the baby snakes in the garage.
And continuing with the domestic mishaps, there was a rather ... unfortunate chicken dinner one night, when I tried to substitute onion soup mix for italian salad dressing mix in a recipe, with predictably odd results.
And I made sure to explain that the syringes in the kitchen drawer were for treating sick foster kittens, not because I had become a heroin addict.
And my jaw kicked up at one point so strongly that I was fairly certain I'd be spending at least part of Monday in the dentist's chair, but thankfully that little problem seemed to resolve itself.
Although now my lower front teeth ache whenever I drink hot coffee, which ... yeah. I have no idea.
So! It was an eventful weekend, saddened by the fact that the family had gathered together due to the death of a loved one. The last time all of us were together was at my father's memorial service, thirteen years ago. We've got to stop meeting like this.
My family - Five daughters, one son, one mom.
As you can see, Texas is not the only
3 comments:
What a nice picture. How did your brother manage life with all those sisters?.............Ginny
P.S. Until now, I don't think I've known anyone who washed their mice in the same dishwater as the fine china.
My brother, being the oldest and the only boy, always had his own bedroom, where he could retreat from the girlitude.
At one point, before I came along and the family moved to a bigger house, my FOUR sisters were sharing ONE bedroom. It's a wonder nobody got killed. I understand there were some epic battles over petticoats.
and if the cats are going to keep bringing in mice, I think it's time THEY started doing the dishes. The cats, not the mice.
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