T.V., Feathers, Muumuus, and Other Fetishes

Due to happy, happy forces outside of my control, the TV ban was lifted yesterday, around 3:00 P.M. when The Funasaurus unexpectedly came home! Work settled in ways they could not have hoped for, and so he got out early, and came straight home to watch a marathon of Entourage. (Does anyone else watch this show? Can you explain to me what’s so great about a group of spoiled, materialistic guys with a lot of money in L.A.? Usually a marathon is enough to suck me in to a show. So far, I don’t really get it.)

I feel whole again, but, of course, my big reading-time and cleaning-time and doing-things-that-are-not-watching-TV-time plans have been squashed. I’m really o.k. with it. And just happy my midnight butt warmer is home.

The cats are happy, too. The Funasaurus knows how to throw the mice the RIGHT way, so Tatum has sworn off of my help altogether, and is back to crying pitifully when The Funasaurus leaves every morning.

Sugar’s story is more interesting. She hasn’t really played with any toys since we got Tatum. We call it the Freshman Syndrome. You know how in college, when you were a senior, and you’d see some freshman all gathered and being stupid and you’d think to yourself, “Dear God, how can one person be such an immature dirty hippie all at once?” and also, “I am better than you.”

Sugar is kind of in that mindset. She used to be silly, and chase toy mice, and roll around on magazines orgasmically (still not sure about that one, the girl loves her perfume samples, I guess.) but as soon as Tatum in all of his googly-eyed splendor showed up, she was so over it. All. Harrumph. And also: sigh. You fucking dirty hippies. And she would sit scornfully in high places, cleaning herself obsessively, as if Tatum’s googly eyes were contagious.

So Tatum took over the faux-mouse realm, chasing them wildly and retrieving them, and decapitating the very same ones that Sugar, only a few months earlier, had whimsically batted around until she accidentally fell off something and then did the quick, sit up, check to see if anyone saw, and saunter away casually as though that had been the plan the whole time. What mouse?

She also had a feather on a string that she loved very much, but Tatum ate it the first night he came home, I think. We haven’t seen it since, in any case.

So I got her another one, recently, in a random act of selflessness in PetSmart.

And suddenly, Sugar cannot help herself! She loves the feather! She cannot bear to see it move, and, forgetting her last shreds of dignity, will launch herself tiger-butt-wiggle-like at it, frantically trying to hunt it down as I evilly swing it in the same loop over and over, laughing manically. Our relationship may have suffered a bit, but the comedic gold that is Sugar’s own brand of googly-eyed-ness is worth it. I have run her into more walls, recently….

And that’s my life, these days. Well, that, and an army of mini cupcakes that I made for a baby shower last weekend. I tried to push them on as many unsuspecting guests as possible, but I was still left with about 692. Not wanting to waste food, I have been diligently consuming about two dozen a day. I am planning on wearing a muumuu on the beach for our honeymoon. Bikinis are so last year, anyway.