Last weekend I leaned over to give The-Guy a kiss on the cheek to thank him for making me my second breakfast/first lunch. But before my lips could touch his face, I heard a splattering sound along with the sight of coffee landing on his plate, computer, and the table. I watched him paw through his coffee as I wondered what I had done to the poor guy. After all, I hadn't even kissed him yet.
It turns out that one of the wasps that frequents our home had met its ultimate demise in The-Guy's coffee. Luckily The-Guy came out un-stung. The great thing about your husband spitting a wasp out of his mouth is that when your teenage son comes up with his customary grunt in response to your daily attempts at conversation, you get to say, "Well I have something to tell YOU for a change!"
In household pet news, Nimue, or "That cat you never talk about" has been taking lessons from Sugar in order to figure out how to be a cat. Meanwhile Sugar continues to be convinced that he's actually a human. Here's Sugar teaching Nimue how to lounge on the steps:
Prior to observing Sugar carefully for several years not to mention making meticulous notes, Nimue would never have allowed a human to see him lounging on the steps (much less stuck around long enough for a picture).
Aside from that, everyone around here is either sick or just getting over being sick:
But just so we don't end on such a sorry note, here's a picture from before the misery hit:
Don't mind the drool and have a great week (or should I say "month" since I've been posting so infrequently?).