This is what your weekend looks like when furbabies wake you up at zero dark thirty, throwing up. On you.

Especially when this one just wants to sit and purr in my lap.

 

All you-know-what breaks out around here when the furbabies are told that they need to wait a while to have treats. Including a mail-tossing temper tantrum by the girl. Kids.

I’ve long claimed that cats are merely two-year-olds in fur. Selfish, impulsive and needy – and no hope that they’ll ever change. Add to that list: They won’t let you go to the bathroom by yourself. I’ve got to remember to pull the door so that it fully latches.

As you might guess, our furbabies are people-attached. And they desperately missed us while we were gone. Please touch me, Daddy.   I must lay on you, Daddy. Did I mention they were desperate?

…he’s gorgeous. As if anyone was in doubt.

A ruckus in the other room revealed this: And what is Bridget looking at? This: It’s always nice to have a new place to play King of the Hill!

This is what a sleepy lazy face looks like. And here’s another. Some weeks you can’t have too many photos of furbabies on the blog. Especially when the two that live with you are (mostly) getting along and (mostly) being sweet.