…the mouse* will:
- eat red onions. The cat won’t go near me if I enjoy a Greek wrap in his presence.
- wear skimpy clothes. Ironic, you may think. But this is the only time I control the AC. Tropical weather it is! He wants to see skin, he can relinquish the power of the thermostat. Otherwise, it’s, unapologetically, Eskimo lounge wear when he’s in town.
- follow sequences. Uninterrupted. It’s like cat who wraps around you and meows and sits on your book and when you finally divert your full attention to him and exclaim “what!”, it just purrs. Possibly laughing at you.
- blare folk, brit-pop, alternative, indie, world, all those genres of music that don’t have humans shredding their vocal cords or bopping into a shamanic schizophrenic trance.
- make all vegan meals! He is special. He will eat my vegan meals, but then will want one every hour because his body metabolizes plants faster than teens go through mood swings. And who gets to be in the kitchen all night?
- not cook.
- read. I just can’t read when he’s here unless he’s next to me in bed reading. And let’s be real, his print of preferences are import car magazines with lots of pictures.
- watch TV. If he’s in the main house level, I have to pause my shows until he climbs downstairs or he gets stuck in a televised reality and has to stand there – not sit, stand – and watch with his mouth open, begging for me to release him.
- clean the floor and keep it that way. And door handles.
- do yoga. Try doing yoga when a man is thundering about the house, wondering where this is, and where that might be, and “whoa, i’d downward dog you” comments. Not very chi. Not even a little bit.
My point to this entry is to give you this…..do it. When you’re alone, when it rains outside, when you’ve had a long day, when you need to skip the gym, when you miss your husband. My favorite:
*Cat = Husband
*Mouse = Wife