She followed the bread crumbs back to our house.
Dang birds not doin' their jobs...
Last evening she asked me if she could have some of her clothes washed--then huddled by me while I emptied the washing machine and placed things into the dryer. Her beady eyes flickered while watching me hang Lord V's shirts on hangers, placing them in the drying closet:
"Oh I would love to iron those" she crooned.
I don't iron.
"Yes. I've noticed. Poor man walks around with wrinkled shirts" She added with a hiss of disapproval.
Maybe if I was a house Frau and didn't have anything else to do, I would iron them.
"Humph. I doubt that. You'd find something else do to...like sit on the couch and read books."
The fact that she still breathes to hiss another day? Should be documented in my Karma good book.
7 years ago