The Fortress of Crankitude has an “extra” room, originally intended as a Florida room, that we’ve dedicated to the comfort of our four cats. It’s where they eat, spend much of their day, and “do their business.” (Two litter boxes; no waiting!) We think of it as “their room” because, owing to its Dutch door, our dogs can’t annoy them when they’re in there, and because we can confine them to it when the need arises. Normally they have the run of the whole house, unless the C.S.O. – my wife Beth – is working or the cleaning lady is here.
I chose the linoleum floor in that room for ease of cleaning. On litter box changing day, after I’ve swept up the scattered bits of litter and cat hair, Beth cleans the floor with an Oreck steam unit. It’s an easy and effective way to keep the cats healthy and deal with the dust from the litter boxes.
Today, after I’d changed the litter and swept up, I fetched the steamer from the garage, filled it with water, and on unaccountable impulse – really! I mean, I hadn’t planned it – presented it to my beloved wife, saying unto her:
And I alone am escaped to tell thee!
(Happy Easter, everyone!)
3 comments:
My sister spent time with a congenial bunch on a freighter trip to Africa many years ago. They entertained themselves at meals by using acronyms such as "PPTS" or "Please pass the salt."
Upon taking leave of her companions, one came up with "PISSS."
"Parting is such sweet sorrow."
I read this to my wife, howling. Crickets . . . I explained this to my wife . . . she looked at me like I had two heads. Pause . . . "and he's NOT in the burn unit?"
Puns don't annoy people; people annoy people.
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