Teach your children well:
Yeah, my kid hates pants, just like his mama.
This is what I came down to on Saturday morning. It's hard to be mad at someone this cute, even if they trash the living room or leave a chicken wing on the floor.
We finally got around to burying the ashes of our dearly-departed pets last weekend. Don't judge -- it's been a rough year and we were busy having human funerals, so we couldn't muster the enthusiasm to say goodbye to my awesome cat Oscar or our beloved dog Fritz until now. For those of you keeping score at home: in 2009 we lost my father, my grandmother, and all three of our pets. But don't cry for me, Argentina; death's a part of life and I believe they're still with us in spirit. Love doesn't die.
D made this stone which serves as the pets' gravestone, and we even added the idiot cat Lucky to it since he's been missing for 6 weeks now and we're pretty sure he is toast. Ironically, we realized that we never knew when he was born either; Jim found him as a flea-infested young stray while hiking in the mountains of Vermont and we were never sure how old he was. In the end, he left our lives as mysteriously as he entered.
Now, Treebeard watches over them.
Here's a pic of my pets as I prefer to remember them, chillin' with D as a tiny tot. My Oscar was the world's coolest cat -- 20 lbs of tail-less lovin'! He was a Manx, a breed of cat that is without a tail. I really miss him.
Aside: sometimes I forget how many changes we've made to our house since we first moved in 8 years ago. Pink carpet, wallpaper, vinyl linoleum? Not my style, fo' sho'.
One more of our handsome fellow. I still expect to feel his head under my palm every night when I come in the door.
I took this one last weekend on the Cub Scout hike. I like how it turned out.
Happy Hump Day, everyone!