I Monkey here.
Mama is spinning around like some kind of cyclone, so I decided to snatch her laptop and catch you all up on what’s going on.
(It’s a cinch she won’t because she’s still grousing that she hasn’t written a decent sentence since I Monkey came to live with her. Huh!)
First off was her band concert. I tell you, her daily practice with that flute-thing was misery to my ears, but I understand it paid off.
She yakked on the phone (and yes, I’m a shameless eavesdropper) and told everybody how “wonderful” it was. They were in tune, the rhythms were correct, and nobody seemed to mess up. The audience, too, appeared happy to hear them — though I Monkey think they should at least have played ONE Christmasy song.
But they didn’t ask me. Hmph.
Next thing, Gramma had to go to the hospital. Nobody could seem to determine what was wrong with her, so she had to stay there a while, and that put more responsibility on Mama’s shoulders.
Mama became the “point person” for the rest of the family, and her cell phone has been regularly blowing up with calls, questions, and such.
I Monkey think she ought to have a better means of communication, but I’m just a wee pup and don’t understand these things.
Soon, though, The Kid (aka Domer) will be home for the holidays. Woo Hoo!
And that’s sent Mama into a cleaning frenzy. I mean, really. Does the woman think The Kid expects a five-star accommodation or something?
She’s also moving furniture, which I’m pretty sure her chiropractor would frown on. I tell you, sometimes Mama’s nuts! I do what I can to help — you know, chase the vacuum so it doesn’t eat her, help her carry heavy stuff, and bite at the cleaning rags.
She’s rearranging her entire bedroom, when it looked perfectly fine to me. However, I’ve noticed she has yet to really throw anything out. It seems she’s just moving stuff from one place to another. Is that supposed to fool anybody?
Still, she did succeed in getting my crate-bed out of the middle of her room, and so she’s happy about having more space. Probably just seems that way, don’t you think?
So here we are.
I don’t imagine the woman will make time to reply to your comments, but I Monkey will. She thinks I sleep while she’s running in circles. Hah!
Don’t clue her in, okay? It’ll be our little secret!