The Opossum Toy

Today is snow day number two. Last night I made enough potato soup to last me eight days (you know, just in case). I have already eaten half of it. Oops. In addition to constant eating, I decided to wash all of my sheets, blankets, and towels. This is Rex’s favorite day. I don’t know why – let’s just chalk it up to him being psychotic – but he love love loves when I strip the bed. He plays all kinds of war games on the mattress and hides in the blankets piled on the floor.

He was all about the opossum today. Until he put him under the oven. Under the oven is the land of lost toys. One day they will catch on fire and then he’ll be sorry. Actually, he is already sorry. He stands by the oven and cries until I remove the under the oven drawer and save them. This time though, I made him learn his lesson. Under the oven is not where we keep our toys, Rex. But now I should probably go get him out so he doesn’t catch on fire. Because then I’d be sorry.

What do you worry about not being able to save if your house catches on fire? Morbid question. I worry about my clothes. Shame on me. Most importantly, my favorite jeans. Hey, a good pair of jeans is hard to find. Shame, shame. And my boots. Shame. Oh, and my cat. And purse (for identification purposes, not because there’s any money in there).

Now my mom isn’t going to be able to sleep because she’s going to be thinking about the opossum fire all night.  Today I also did my hair and put on a full face of makeup.  Wearing sweatpants and looking like a boy for four days is not good for the self.

No comments: