But I Keep Forgetting.
People tell me all the time, "You can put that on your blog." I usually say, "I just might do that!" Unfortunately my memory is not as good as it used to be and I can never recall these things when I want to which is the case right now of course.
All I can think of right now is how cute my dogs are when I say to them, "Toby can has cheezburger?" "Carly, can has cheezburger?" And I say it with this indescribable voice that makes them tilt their heads when they hear it. Of course I'm referring to that website, now I should link to it, but I'm feeling lazy, and I have it on my blog roll thingy just to the right there.
Other people have heard me say it because I say it over and over once I start, and they have asked me what the heck I'm going on about, I've tried to explain it, but it is best just to visit the site. Anyway, it doesn't work as good on the cats, they seem completely indifferent to the English language. They know the sound of the garage door opening though.
Poor deprived babies, they think going out in the garage is an adventure. They are indoor cats so they have no clue that the garage is just an extremely messy extension of the actual house. I guess the smell of the lawn mower makes it a much more interesting place to them. They go out there and sniff around for hours sometimes, the fat one does this funny thing where he sniffs with his mouth open as if his nostrils just can't take in all of the scents at once. I get tired of trying to call them back in only to have them ignore me so sometimes I just shut the door and walk away. Later that day I will hear one of them trying to turn the door knob, and crying to be let back in. I'm not kidding, they actually jump up and try to open the door. I hear their little paws on it.
I have no idea what they do out there all of that time, but there is plenty of junk and boxes for them to sniff at and most likely pee in. I guess we'll find out at Christmas when I get ye olde artificial tree out and it smells like piss. My husband will be really ticked. I'm hoping they are not actually peeing on stuff out there, I was only joking about it, but I wouldn't put it past them. They have done it before, which really really makes hubby mad, and I don't blame him one bit. That is why he gets so annoyed when I let them go out there, but I do it because of the guilt I feel for keeping them indoors all the time even though I know it is best for them, but they sure do come running when I open that door so they must like to go out there.
Now I bet people are wondering how many more posts I can get from the subject of cat piss. I haven't even mentioned how my mom's insane cat likes to pee in the potted plants. A thing that doesn't really bother my mom that much since she doesn't really even like plants, they are my dad's plants any way, and all he is thinking about right now is his future retirement. The woman was a nurse for over 30 years, I don't think much gets to her anymore.
My mother has become more and more stubborn about her ways although she denies this is true. I was amazed the other day when she called me over to help her clean out some of her cabinets in her kitchen. I've been trying to do that for years, but she would never let me. I was even more shocked when we ended up with 2 garbage bags of cool whip container lids, and various ancient tupperware dishes. My grandmother died in 1978, and some of that stuff was hers. I dare say that even plastic seems to have a shelf life.
Why now? I don't really know, but she did want me to fill the empty space with her new plastic containers with nifty red lids. I was glad to see she had new plastic containers, not that the cool whip and butter tubs of days gone by had not done a proper job of storing left overs, but even they wear out after numerous trips through the dishwasher, and mom just doesn't buy cool whip like she used to. So we did that, and it was fun for the most part, as long as I didn't venture into territories that she deemed off limits. She mentioned she had other stuff she wants to do next time, and I was to leave certain things for next time.
Unfortunately, I lost the battle on the gigantic stack of pie tins. I was not to throw those out under no uncertain terms. I obeyed my mother. She says she uses them to reheat left overs in the OVEN. In the OVEN people. She's always been a patient person I can say.
I suppose that is enough blathering for one night. Forgive my abrupt end to this titillating piece of writing, but I'm plum tuckered out and must go to bed immediately and snore extremely loudly. I will be back soon.
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