Time Warp Tuesday

Ever had the impression you've been here before?

My friend popped over this morning to drop off something and pick up something.
I’d say what something was only I don’t remember anymore.

Just like I didn’t remember why I walked her into the adjacent room to show her something only to forget what something was once we got there.
“It’s in here,” I said “come with me…” leading her through the magical magnetic door frame that obviously wiped my brain matter clean of any useful residue the minute we passed through.

I stood there sputtering and scratching my head while sizzling noises seeped from my ears. “wait…what am I doing here again”?


"Do you smell smoke?"
“and what did you say your name was again”?

Maybe I’m just a little distracted…what, with work, house things, and taking my son's medications. It’s possible I suppose, but I’m good.
Really I am.

Now where did I put those car keys???

What's yours is Mine

I woke up this morning and began the usual routine.
Wake Son up.
Let dog out.
Start toast.
Get medicine for Son ready.
Get my medicine ready.
Take all above mentioned medicine myself in one sweeping gulp.
Prompt son to hurry out of the shower and come eat breakfast.
Tell dog to stop begging.

Wait.
Did I just take my Son’s medicine?

Look around for said medications.
Scan countertops for Son’s pills.
Check table tops and floor.
Check pill container (yes it’s been removed)
Look at dog funny to see if he’s chewing something.

Nothing.

Yes, I’m retarded.
I took my Son’s medicine for Attention Deficit, for Anxiety, AND my antidepressant.

Spent the day happy as a lark, focused as hell and not afraid of anything!

Sheesh.

Animal Soup

He’s been sent outdoors for bad behavior, and he's not so happy about it.

I’m not sure if he was digging to China, or just trying to tunnel his way back into the house after getting thrown out for chewing too many random socks.

The little shit.

I’m about 9 socks to short for making complete pairs, and until he can quarry out some new ones from those holes he’s so fond of creating, he’s outside Mister.

I know he’s cute and all, and my son thinks he’s the best thing ever, but his appetite for all things fabric is getting ready to earn him a new home in my pot of stew.

And what’s with the cat? We moved into a house with wood and tile floors, but yet he finds it necessary to run find the 8 x 12 patch of Persian rug to puke on. God forbid he should gag on anything less than 100 % cotton.

For my next post I'll be sharing some of my favorite recipes....