Tuesday, December 3, 2002
Who amongst us does not want our beloved to tenderly examine our most private of places and murmur those unforgettable words:
"It's scabbing well."
My thoughts, exactly.
So here I am, home again. It seems so very odd to be back in a place this quiet and isolated after all the dazzle and zing of Montreal.
The daughter was incredibly brave. She could have pushed me out the door of her apartment with a cheery wave, but instead helped me schlep bags of stuff to the bus depot in Montreal. It was rush hour and the buses and metro (subway) were jammed like sardine cans o' commuters. It Was Not A Fun Experience.
We got to the central bus station to catch my bus home half an hour early because … well because I am the insanely anal kind of dork who cannot stand to take the slightest chance that I might, you know, miss said bus.
Pitiful, I know.
Had I been her, upon arrival at the bus depot I would have dumped my sorry butt there and caught the next transportation home. Instead, she stuck around and helped me to pass the wait in conversation. She is a wonderfully thoughtful person. She takes after her father that way.
I got a suitably warm and happy greeting from the spousal unit when he picked me up. For a brief moment I almost deluded myself into believing that my cats were overjoyed to see me, too, when we walked into our cabin. After all, they spent my first half hour home rubbing against my legs and deeply inhaling my pants.
I think we can all agree that no matter what the species, leg rubbing and pant inhalation can be a sign of great affection.
However, it soon dawned on me that Zoë and Zubby were not in the slightest interested in me, but were instead trying to decipher the aroma of my daughter's cats. When I shed the pants for something more comfortable, the cats followed the pants to the laundry basket in our closet for more in depth study and completely ignored me.
Yes, my cats find my pants more interesting than they find me.
So much for whatever tiny shreds of self-esteem I might be harbouring, eh?
P.S.--If you're doing any of your Christmas shopping at Amazon this year, why not do it through Blue Sphere? Five per cent of what you spend will be donated by Amazon to Blue Sphere, and will be given to the Foster Parents Plan of Canada.
Yep, you get to make a large corporation cough up five per cent of its profits AND at no cost to yourself you get to help some poor kids out. What's not to love about that, eh?
NEWSFLASH! Now you get the chance at Canuckistani Hot Chocolate for getting the word out about Blue Sphere. Post a link and you're in the contest. Whatcha waiting for? Huh? HUH?
Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -
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