A Day in the Life
Get this.
4:30 am. Sound asleep. All of a sudden…
CRASH!
SHCSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Flew out of bed into the kitchen - (feet did not touch the floor)
- Home-invasion robbers? (they’ve struck several homes in our area lately).
- Terrorists?
- Anthrax?
- Raccoons?
- Insane neighbors with guns?
- Ginger, the dog who comes to visit?
No.
Skimpy and Max (Great Hunting Cats) had forcefully tackled and subdued an overly aggressive red dragon that we’d left sitting on the kitchen table. Errr, that is to say… a twelve-pack of coca-cola. Sadly for all concerned (or perhaps fortunately?) only one can remained in the carton, causing an EXPLOSION when they wrestled the Great Red Dragon to the ground.
SHCSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
What had been two Great Hunting Cats wrestling, three other cats watching turned into five sweet innocent kittens fleeing the scene (including one across my leg, causing some pain). Two dogs came running, ostensibly to protect me from terrorists, home-invasion robbers, or raccoons (Lucy was hoping for ‘coons, them being tastier). I went skidding across the kitchen floor before I realized that what seemed to be a (hand grenade? dirty bomb? hissing rattlesnake?) in the middle of the kitchen floor was only a can of coke, still in the case, spinning around and around. (If it had been all twelve, would it have made a hole in the ceiling when it blew up? Should this be reported to Coke as a realistic danger? Can I sue for damages? :::rolls in hysterics::: )
My husband, instead of coming to defend me from the Great Red Dragon (hand grenade, anthrax terrorists, evil raccoon) just lay in bed howling at it all.
At least Lucy came over and helped to lick up the coke, so we could all go on back to bed.
A day in the life, indeed.
