Why Do You Tell People This Stuff?

I have a reputation, and it isn't a good one.

Over the weekend I removed just short of 100 fleas from dear old Uncle Barb (uncle barb is a cat. i did not name him.).

As I recounted this to THGGM, he said "You're not going to blog about this, are you?".

Were he to write a book (and i wish that he would!) it would be interesting. My sad tales of mice infestations (last house) and now fleas are about as interesting as it gets over here with the exception being, of course, when Jonge, Famke and Kado are here.

I have to make a LOAD of phone calls today. Some are made, some I'm gathering more information for, and some will have to be made when I get to my dad's house.

I SO very much hate to make phone calls. It takes forever to get to a real live human being, and then once I do that human being ASKS FOR INFORMATION I DO NOT HAVE. I've been tempted to say, "Look. For as long as I have been on hold, could YOU hold while I run over to my dad's house and get that information for you?"

Today I feel ever so whiny.

I hate it when other people whine. But, like 'boring' I am working to raise 'whining' to an artform.

Anyway. The BEST way to remove fleas is with a fine toothed comb. Thank you, Mary, for that advice. It works like a charm. I'm also cracking those little buggers so don't anyone call P*T*, I mean *E*A on me. Old Uncle Barb is MUCH happier too. I had really thought that his itchy skin was just another symptom of his diabetes. Poor boy.

Now I shall tell one more boring thing about my morning.

THGGM got up for work at 4:00 this morning. I was able to sleep in until the leisurely hour of 7:00.

Since I planned to get an early start, I quickly jumped into the shower. Once I am soaking wet, I realize that SOMEONE who shall remain INITIAL-LESS removed MY shampoo from MY shower (you know, the all pink shower that he won't use). So, I reach for my towel so I can make a mad dash into the other bathroom to retrieve MY shampoo only to notice that my queen size towel is not anywhere in the bathroom. There are NO towels whatsoever in my pretty pink bathroom.

Okay. That was my fault.

But still.

So this morning I learned that body wash makes an excellent shampoo. And, I dried off somewhat adequately on two Christmas dishtowels I found in the linen closet in the hallway.

I think I need one of those "I've fallen and I can't get up!" buttons like my dad is getting.

I shall press it and say "There is no towel in this bathroom, could someone please bring me one?" Yes. To me, that is an emergency.

May the day improve.