Sep

26

By CinnamonOpus

3 Comments

Categories: Cats, Everyday Life Stuff, That Baby

Business As Usual

So, here’s how our day is going this morning:

  • Our girl, who had a rough afternoon yesterday what with the sneezing and the coughing and the boogs, went to sleep last night at 7:30… AND DIDNT WAKE UP AGAIN UNTIL 5:00 THIS MORNING. (I know. Calm yourselves.) We changed her bum and gave her a bottle. And then? SHE WENT BACK TO BED AND SLEPT UNTIL 8. Of course, she’s feeling poorly again now, but for the long night of sleep BDH and I got last night? TOTALLY worth it.
  • The phone has been ringing NON-STOP since we got home. Dude. We don’t KNOW that many people. It’s driving us crazy. Except for Stinkerbelle, who gets all excited because she loveslovesloves the phone. She has learned, in a few short days, that the phone is a MAGICAL thing — because it means she and Grammie can have a talk.
  • I sat down on the floor beside The Girl on her blanket while she played, armed with my laptop and a cup of coffee to do a bit of posting. And I was doing really well, too… she was playing and I was type-type-typing away… until I looked over and there was Opus, standing on the coffeetable, dunking her paw into my cup of coffee, and licking the coffee off her paw. She looked up with a “WHAT?” look on her face. The baby laughed. I threw my coffee down the sink.
  • My daughter takes after me, in that she feels waking up is some sort of cruel and unusual punishment. She takes waking up VERY personally. She will start fussing and crying (I would do that, but it is sort of frowned upon by a grown woman. But I understand the sentiment.) Anyway, unlike me, whenever SHE cries, Duncan comes running to see what is wrong with His Baby.
  • BDH finally filed for EI today, for his parental leave time. Which means we should be seeing a cheque for a buck fifty or so sometime in 2009.
  • This whole being sick thing has its benefits. For example, we do not have to go out, which means we do not have to hear The Mayor hollering inappropriate questions across at us, such as “HEY! Whose baby is that?” and making such astute observations as “HEY! She’s BLACK!”

So it’s business as usual here at The House of Peevish.