After coming home from work, i decided that it was about time that i sort out my laundry before i have to start wearing clothing that haven't seen the light of day in months. Items of clothing that i like to call 'in case of emergency' cases; much loved t-shirts that have faded and are two sizes too small.
I admit doing my laundry doesn't involve much hard work. One must separate the darks from the lights, then chuck in a scoopful of detergent and let the machine do all the dirty work. Then go by my own business for an hour or so and then return to pull all the wrinkled items out and hang them out to dry.
But last night in the midst of training to be a house wife, i decided to water my already dehydrated plants on my balcony and put my kitten in the pet carrier. That way, i wouldn't have to worry that he'll make a run for it and leap over the side in act of hatred towards my newly installed grill balcony door.
And somewhere between watching Grey's Anatomy and checking my email, i decided to lie down on my bed. Eyelids fluttering open every few minutes as the volume to the t.v would mysteriously go up just as some annoying commercial would come on.
Next thing i know my clock radio goes off and i notice my bedroom door is wide open. The air conditioning is on full blast refrigerating the living room and neighborhood [since i left the balcony door open]. The ceiling fan is set on 4, any higher would probably create a mini turnado. I hear a faint meow. "Ahhhh SHIT... i left Smooks in the carrier!"
Jumping out of bed to open the carrier door and be greeted by a confused looking creature who probably was busting to go to the loo seconds before i put him in there. Equivalent to being confined to a space the size of an Observation Cell or in his case, some torture medieval vaulted chamber.
Seconds after being released and me jumping under my doona, my bed was transformed into a playing field. The perfect size for Smooks' long jumps and Shot put trials. Every so often the rolled up plastic bag would land dangerously close to my face and i would react by chucking it as far as i could, aiming outside my room. Which he would then use my stomach as a spring board to give him more height when launching. But only to have it returned by an obedient wanna-be-dog.
I soon learned not to throw it but to do the good old "Now You See It... Now You Don't" trick. Just tuck it underneath my still body and pretending it had magically disappeared. Which worked, since he ended up playing in the living room but then knocked over the clothes dryer stand whilst doing his morning run. And that was about the time that i realised i was going to be late for work because i had also forgotten about my clothes in the machine.
I admit doing my laundry doesn't involve much hard work. One must separate the darks from the lights, then chuck in a scoopful of detergent and let the machine do all the dirty work. Then go by my own business for an hour or so and then return to pull all the wrinkled items out and hang them out to dry.
But last night in the midst of training to be a house wife, i decided to water my already dehydrated plants on my balcony and put my kitten in the pet carrier. That way, i wouldn't have to worry that he'll make a run for it and leap over the side in act of hatred towards my newly installed grill balcony door.
And somewhere between watching Grey's Anatomy and checking my email, i decided to lie down on my bed. Eyelids fluttering open every few minutes as the volume to the t.v would mysteriously go up just as some annoying commercial would come on.
Next thing i know my clock radio goes off and i notice my bedroom door is wide open. The air conditioning is on full blast refrigerating the living room and neighborhood [since i left the balcony door open]. The ceiling fan is set on 4, any higher would probably create a mini turnado. I hear a faint meow. "Ahhhh SHIT... i left Smooks in the carrier!"
Jumping out of bed to open the carrier door and be greeted by a confused looking creature who probably was busting to go to the loo seconds before i put him in there. Equivalent to being confined to a space the size of an Observation Cell or in his case, some torture medieval vaulted chamber.
Seconds after being released and me jumping under my doona, my bed was transformed into a playing field. The perfect size for Smooks' long jumps and Shot put trials. Every so often the rolled up plastic bag would land dangerously close to my face and i would react by chucking it as far as i could, aiming outside my room. Which he would then use my stomach as a spring board to give him more height when launching. But only to have it returned by an obedient wanna-be-dog.
I soon learned not to throw it but to do the good old "Now You See It... Now You Don't" trick. Just tuck it underneath my still body and pretending it had magically disappeared. Which worked, since he ended up playing in the living room but then knocked over the clothes dryer stand whilst doing his morning run. And that was about the time that i realised i was going to be late for work because i had also forgotten about my clothes in the machine.
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