The Boy and I think we’re getting sick. No surprise, really, after a marathon weekend of, well, a marathon and travel.
But who has time to be sick?
So I’m sitting here drinking my first cup of coffee, hoping that it purges the illness.
Meanwhile, the furbabies are impatiently awaiting treats from mama. And, I wish I was kidding (as well as wishing I had enough energy to take a photo of this), Bridget just started throwing a tantrum.
She started by sitting on the bar, looking at me. Then she walked over to a bag that was on the counter, pushed it on the floor and walked back to her spot to sit and look at me.
Seriously.
I’ve ignored her some more and she’s just knocked a stack of mail on the floor.
This cat is getting out of hand.
Getting?
True!