Cats and Kidisms

The universe is laughing at me. I know this because as we were frantically heading for the door this morning, ten minutes late as usual, my girl came in the front door with a cat that was not ours. Winter had headed outside ahead of the rest of us to open the van, and had been asked by a passer-by on the street, "Is that your cat?"

A complete sucker like her mama, Winter replied, "No, but we'll take care of it and try to find it's owner." Crap. I became (even more) flustered and said something dumb like, "I don't have time for this!" (Nice message, mom. Being on time is more important than a living creature that needs our help? Just hell.) My husband pointed me toward the door as the cat made a bee-line to the cat food bowls, clearly starving. "I'll put her in the bathroom with a litter-box and some food and you can deal with her when you get back." Have I mentioned that I really appreciate that guy?

As we all buckled up, Winter asked anxiously, "Did I do the right thing, Mama?" I assured her that she had, trying to undo some of the damage my previous exasperation may have caused. "I thought she (the cat) was another present," West said in a sad, small voice from the backseat. "I'm sorry, Buddy. She's not our kitty." We made it to the middle school just in time. Phew.

Once home, I called our local pet store and the sheriff's department to report that we'd found said kitty. To my surprise, the police sent an officer to pick up the cat, leaving me with info to reclaim her if her owners aren't found in the next ten days. Beware people, pet ownership is a slippery slope!

In the middle of all of this, Walker began bringing me articles of clothing from the laundry basket. The screaming was well underway before I realised that he wanted to wear all of it. I helped him into his striped shirt and his sister's satin fitted jacket, with my beige bodysuit over the whole mess, West's snow boots finishing the ensemble. Right.

My husband calls, the first of many that I will receive from him today. I give him the update, and he asks, "What do you think?" I think that # of pets=# of people is my limit! Thankfully, James Blunt makes an appearance on Sesame Street singing, "A Triangle" to the tune of "You're Beautiful." Calms me right down.

I had originally planned to talk about West growing up. Yesterday he said, "I changed my mind" for the first time, replacing my favorite kidism of his, "I changed out my mind!" Sigh.

To do list:
1) Pick up art room.
2) Fold and put away mountain of laundry.
3) Cut down and prep remaining dahlias to dig next week.
4) Wash kitchen floor (wishful thinking).
5) Plaster crack in bathroom wall, prep for painting.
6) Bed by nine (must get up early for work tomorrow.)

Wish me luck!

Everything I Need To Know I Learned in the Theater

1) It's a hard knock life, but the sun'll come out tomorrow.

2) When you mess up, slap on a smile and get back on track.

3) Improvisation requires saying yes, trusting the people standing next to you, and going with the flow.

4) Working with children and animals is hell.

5) Boys are gay.

6) Your critics? Just jealous.

7) Costume and makeup make all the difference!

8) You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You.

9) Money makes ze vorld go round, ze vorld go round...

10) There's no place like home.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Last week, I visited an Aldi's grocery store. It was the second time I've been there (the first being last year, at which time I was not impressed, as they did not carry many items that my family uses consistantly.) This time I brought my kids, and we found $50.00 worth of off-brand alternatives to our usual grocery list. (The thought just occurred to me: did I find more out of necessity? Were my mind's eyes opened by the change in our financial status with me being out of work recovering from my back injury and related migraines, compounded by fears regarding our current economy?) Regardless, at check-out, I saw them: huge cloth grocery bags! It was then that I realized that I am a Go Green Grocery Bag Whore.

I can't explain the allure of these cloth bags. Maybe it's that they rarely cost more than a dollar. Maybe they remind me vaguely of those huge cloth bags by Guess that were all the rage in high school in the early 90's. Maybe it's the illusion that I'm doing something good for the environment (I'm not; these bags will never be returned to a store to be used instead of paper or plastic.) Maybe it's just one of those things that I'm destined to unintentionally collect, like the cups that I'm continually culling from our cupboards, I don't know. What I do know is that off the top of my head I own a minimum of 4 Anoka County Library bags, 2 Half Price Books bags, 2 Cub bags, 2 Walmart bags and now, 3 Aldi's bags. I guess I'll just focus on the silver lining: I can always use one of the bags to...store the rest of the bags.