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A Picture of Monday in Bleach and Blue

Mango would like it known he resents being cast as the ominous murderer in so many of my recent blog pet pictures, to which I reply, “Perhaps you should stop looming around, terrorizing Ansley. Maybe stop making blood-lusty throat-goat warbles and giving yourself minor brain damage by hurling your face into the glass in a futile attempt get at my little birds.”

Now he isn’t speaking to me. CATS! Such DIGNITY. A cat is little more than a massive scoop of dignity surrounded by a purr-box and some hair. And yet God also made them hilarious.

SO hard NOT to laugh at a cat, really, when he leaps and misses and smacks into the wall and slides down it like Wile E. Coyote. But if you do, they stalk off, mightily offended, tails up and their little winking butts radiating clenched and angry I MEANT TO DO THAT-ness. Ask me how I know.

They didn’t mean to do that. You know it, I know it, the cat knows it, but it is better, and kinder, and leads to a more peaceful house, to tamp the laugh down and nod sagely and agree. You clearly meant to do that.

I think a cat is my spirit animal, as I have too much personal dignity coupled with INSANE klutziness. I can trip over DUST MOTES, but if you laugh at me as I go comically sprawling face first into the cat-box, I will stalk off with MY tail up.

Mango and Man both have had a morning here. Mango is being petulant, sitting stiff and scowly on my desk instead of lolling in my lap as I work. He, you may have guessed, ios the wall-smacker, and I am the fool who laughed.

Bagel reacted…poorly to the new worm-preventing medicine, and in the dead of night, he crept out of our bed and went and, er, reacted poorly all over the dining room. ALL over the dining room.

Scott went downstairs to push the coffee button and did not come back up for an hour. When he did, he stank of virulent cleaning products and was much surlier than is his want. Took a quick re-shower in bleach, and then stomped out to go to work, only to stomp back in and say, “My tire is flat.” He changed his tire, then said, “Imma take out the trash and go.”

At the trashcan, he discovered Sam had simply crammed the bags into the can and hurled the rest into a heap. Here in Decatur, your recycling is all free, but trash you pay for PER bag. You have pack all the regular bags into special Decatur bags. Sam had stuffed the can without bothering to do this. So Scott had to unpack the can and load all the trash into the proper bags. He finally roared away, only to roar back.

Hi, he said. I forgot my wallet.

I am terrified he will be killed by a truck not four miles from the house, the way things started here. And the cat is still not speaking to me…Two of my most favorite fellows are having CRAP days.


19 comments to A Picture of Monday in Bleach and Blue

  • Dotty Gorton

    Even though none of the parties mentioned can hear me, I would first like to apologize for laughing out loud. Wonderful Scott is entitled to great rewards. All of that early in the morning and he didn’t drag you out to help. I would suggest starting with a talk with Sam. No reason he shouldn’t be able to do that job right the first time. I trust you can come up with suitable prizes for that lovely Scott. This day has to get better for both your guys. Only way it can go. Mondays have a bad name for a reason.

  • It’s the springing forward that morphs regular, ornery Mondays into MONDAYS.
    So sorry!!

  • Oh, my. That’s more activity than this house sees in a week. The time change left both of us sleepless well into the wee morning hours last “night.” My husband got up and went to work in the dark after, what I hope was, a couple hours sleep. I planned a preemptive response and stayed in bed as long as possible so any calamity that’s due will fall in the afternoon.

  • It wasn’t a great Monday, but I can’t quite top yours. The daylight savings thing really pisses me off, and we were all dragging, bitchy and late this morning. I have a doctor appointment about my ailing foot that is preventing me from running, and a follow-up appointment on my son’s MRI for his back. So. The day could get a lot better or a lot worse.

    Have you ever seen that George Carlin segment where he talks about cats? About how they tear around the house like the devil is chasing them, only to smash into the sliding glass door, stalk off like they meant to do it? Go behind the couch and mutter “F-ing meow”. I laugh every single time. We have quite a bit of f-ing meow in our house.

  • I would laugh but I might vomit. Will be going to the ER as soon as Boyfriend gets home. So, you know, just another Monday. >.<

  • Ah, Monday, how do I detest thee. Let me count the ways. (And here I will stop paraphrasing EBB). My Monday will, hopefully, look more like what my Saturday was supposed to look like since I didn’t get done on Saturday what I’d set out to do. I didn’t get it done Sunday, either, which I spent completely confused about what…Who? Huh? Yeah, that was Sunday. Today, my Monday looks an awful lot like all the previous Mondays, so now’s the time to turn it into that Saturday-that-didn’t-quite-happen so that, hopefully, tomorrow can look like Sunday was supposed to before the failure of Saturday and all the cotton stuffed brains of Sunday. If Tomorrow can look like Sunday, then Wednesday will look like Wednesday because I’ll be all caught up (that means I have to do four days worth of “to-dos” in two days) so I can drive to Louisville for a little visit with my parents. ELSE, the drive will be postponed by 24 hours so as to complete two days worth of things in one day, and probably not up to my normal standards. We shall see.

  • DebR

    I no longer believe in Mondays. Today is Pre-Tuesday. It’s meh, but at least it isn’t Stupid Monday.

  • Tracey

    Oh, he is having a Monday isn’t he. This is why there are no four legged friends in my house. Hoping his Tuesday is much brighter 🙂

  • Beth

    I love Jesus and all, but Mercury is in retrograde, and that’s when everything goes to crap.

  • I’m with Beth. But I’m going to hedge my bets against Mercury’s retrograde with a brownie from Chick Fil A for you, ‘cos I’m coming to the book club tonight in all this rain and we’re both gonna need the chocolate to fortify our drives home.
    If you tell me you can’t eat chocolate or nuts or CFA then I’ll eat it for you, thereby double hedging my bets. And my butt.

  • JulieB

    Ugh. Sorry – my bad Saturday must have blown eastward. My Monday has improved, but I made a mistake so HUGE on Saturday I almost threw up when I realized it. I don’t even want to type about it anymore.

    I hope the weather takes this jinx out to the ocean where it is lost in the Bermuda Triangle, never to be seen again.

  • Linda J

    It is my day off today and tomorrow. It was my plan to tackle my 11 yo sons room. As in a hoard so massive that he has been sleeping on the living room FLOOR he says by choice but when I realized that there was no place in his room for everything on his bed I decided it was time for extreme measures. But I just couldn’t get into it. My old man just really got on my nerves. Last night I worked and I asked the kid what part of his room he was going to do. UUUGGGHHHH All they did was MOVE the mess over for me to be able to get to his closet. Not even put the basket full of clothes away… Why do I have to do it on my day off and not him????? So I went back to bed. Freshly shaved legs, nice clean sheets under cozy just out of the dryer blankets and then the dogs start acting up!!! well I tried. Tonight I’m going to piss them off and not do it myself… THE MAID (me) WILL STRIKE IF THEY DON’T HELP!!!

  • Therese

    I just had a related convo with a friend as we walked today. She said, “Never judge yourself or your job on a Monday. Just don’t. It never ends well and it never is true. And when you’ve been gone for a week, the entire first week back is all Mondays.” I do not like this effect, but it is really real.

    So, Sam must have already left for school this morning when the trash debacle was discovered, right? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you & Scott would have gone with the logical consequence of dragging his butt out there to re-do the garbage correctly. (And I was afraid you were going to say that hoodlum dogs or raccoons had gotten into the garbage and decorated your yard with it…improper bagging feels like a relief in comparison!)

    So, today is my first day back at work after needing more than a week off to lay my stepmother to rest and help comfort my dad and try to make arrangements for him to keep living on his own (he’s 84 and frail but stubborn). I got home last night to half-dead houseplants and a dog who was only sorta glad to see me — apparently I don’t provide or condone as many treats and adventures as the care-giving neighbors do, or something. At work here there were only 158 unread emails in the inbox and I felt really Lucky! Only 1 semi-major fire to put out…but no one knew where I’d been because our boss didn’t share the email I’d sent him when I found out I needed to leave in a hurry (and I’d left my email out-of-office notice rather vague, never suspecting he wouldn’t say anything to our team!)

    But, on the good side, my ancient truck started nicely this a.m. after sitting for more than a week, I had no flat tires…and I didn’t have to clean up any horrid bodily malfunctions! Whew.

  • No Sam was home. And YES! normally we would drag his sleepy butt out of bed and make him fix it. But. He woke up Sunday with a fever and all manner of congestion, and I wanted to let the kid sleep. Not to worry — he felt better today and before I coudl even murder him much, he volunteered to do a bunch of his dad’s chores to help out and make up for it. He is a good kid.

  • Fran

    Monday is my Sunday. I work Tuesday through Saturday. Except that the boss has whatever virulent plague is affecting everyone, so I got to work on my day off.

    That being said, aside from not getting much sleep (nothing to do with DST, which reallly doesn’t bother me, and everything to do with a book I just Couldn’t Stop Reading), it wasn’t a bad non-Sunday Monday.

    But oh, poor Scott!

  • Brigitte

    Augh, I hope your hubby survived the rest of the day, and maybe even got his favorite dinner? Mango will just have to suck it up, and accept that ALL cats are evil, yet klutzy, little murderers (which is exactly why I love them – I feel like one too, but society constrains me into trying not to act like one).
    Luckily for Bagel, he is too dumb to realize his Monday was also not too awesome. 😉

  • Elizabeth

    Dear Fran,

    What are you reading? I need that book/stress escape.

    Thanks in advance.

  • Therese

    Aw, hooray for good kids who recover and then do penance! And well done, parents – both on the kid-raising and the non-murdering!

    So, here’s a sort-of-but-not-really-related question. If one’s spawn turn out to be good people, do parents get to take credit? Conversely, if spawn turn out to be serial murderers, do parents have to take blame? It’s kind of a nature vs. nurture question that doesn’t seem to have a B&W answer…I think the answer is, “It depends” or “Sometimes.”

    Ah well. Glad we survived Monday, at least.

  • Kacie

    I think I would have kidnapped my husband after he returned home and made him go back to bed. Not worth risking the rest of the day to more misery…