It got a little crazy around here last night. So I'm lounging on the couch, reading "The Return of the King" and minding my own business. Enter: the man and his little yipping dog, Squeak.
"Squeak says, "Hey...let's pretend that you are the owner man and I'm the little dog. Yip! Yip! Yip!"
The man says, "OK, but first let me go kiss that beautiful lady over there."
He crosses the room with his small brown-haired doggie close behind. He kisses me and the little dog barks, "Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!" and scratches at the man's legs. The man keeps trying to kiss me and the little dog keeps interfering.
Sensing that her plaintiff barks are being ignored, Squeak speaks up, "Let's pretend that the lady doesn't like dogs. She throws rocks at them."
I look the man in the eye, "Is this a dog you have brought with you? I do not like dogs. I throw rocks at them!" Naturally, I begin throwing rocks - BIG rocks! The man and his dog run out of the room.
They attempt a secret counsel, but I overhear them. "I want to kiss the pretty lady, but she doesn't like dogs. So pretend you are a cat."
Squeak says, "Meeee-oooowww, Yip! Yip! Yip!" and they come back into the living room. I have managed to read an entire 2 paragraphs in their absence.
"Oh," I say. "What a lovely kitty. I like kitties! Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" Squeak bounds over to me and I scratch her ears while she purrs and meows. The man keeps leaning across her to try and kiss me (Was there a full moon last night?). Sensing interference, Squeak suddenly growls and then, "Yip!Yip!Yip!Yip!" and she starts pawing at the man.
"What?!" I cry in evident shock and surprise. "You are not a kitty, you are doggy! I am going to throw rocks at you!" I throw rocks: Squeak and the kissy man scurry out of the room.
I pick up my book and soak in another two paragraphs of orcs and hobbits and riders of Rohan. The man comes back in. He is heading my way.
"Oh look, Squeak. Here is the lovely lady. I will kiss her again!"
I hold up my hand. "Stop right there, mister!" I say sternly, "Is that a dog with you? You know I don't like dogs!"
"Dog?" says he. "Oh no, that's not a dog. That is my pet bird, Squeak." He kisses me and I close my eyes. When I open them, Squeak is perching next to me on the couch. Squeak is a very strange looking bird. She has long dark-brown hair and a pink dress (with flowers). I comment on this, "Your pet is a very strange looking bird. She has long dark-brown hair and a pink dress (with flowers)."
The man smiles and starts to giggle, "...and four legs," he adds.
I start to giggle too, "Squeak is a four-legged hairy bird!!"
We both start to tickle Squeak; We're all rolling around on the floor laughing and saying, "Yip! Yip! Yip!"
Suddenly the door from the basement opens and Princess Girly-Girl enters. She gazes at us with royal austerity and says, "You people are making entirely too much noise. We are trying to draw on the chalkboard in peace."
We all pause a moment to look at her with wide, innocent eyes. Then we all crawl toward her with our tickle claws and say, "Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!"
Heard from the basement this morning:
Silly-Head: bloodcurdling scream
Girly-Girly: (shouting) Give it to ME! It's MY turn!
SH: (screaming) NOOOOOOOO!
GG: Well, THAT'S not fair. You are hurting my feelings!
(dramatic silence while Silly-Head's demeanor indicates that she really doesn't care.)
GG: I'm ashamed of you. That's just not how a proper young lady should act!
Found on the kitchen bar this morning: "Please reset the clock on the lamp timer."
Apparently I forgot that clock! Mulletman usually has the lamp set to turn on 5 minutes before his alarm. This morning it went on at 3:45 am instead of 4:45. Mulletman promptly arose, shut off the alarm and went through his usual morning rituals. Just before he left for work, he came in and gave me kiss. Then I heard him open the garage door and drive way. I dozed back off.
Moments later I heard him come back in the kitchen door. He messed around in the kitchen a few minutes, then went down and ran on the treadmill. Now I was more awake. Why had he left and come back? Or had he left? Maybe he had just brought the car around to warm it up first. Or maybe he wasn't going to work because he was sick. Of course, if he was sick he wouldn't be on the treadmill.
I got up and squinted at the clock...It was only 5:15. He still had half an hour before he even needed to leave! Oh well, at least he wasn't late. I went back to sleep.
It wasn't until I saw the completely empty coffeepot and the note on the bar that I understood. He had woken up an hour early and left an hour early for work. He didn't realize his mistake until he saw the clock in the car. Poor guy. I bet he'll be tired tonight!
And yes, I reset the timer clock for him.