There's something about the early morning and the late evening that sends my furmily into hyper-active mode. I might have to organize a daycare and nightcare room for them. They get W.I.L.D. Running and chasing. Tumbling and fighting. Tuesday night I got caught in the cross-hair of one such chase.
It looked like something out of a Dick Van Dyke movie (I'm Dick in this scenario). Cosmos and Baby Kitty were playing chase and tag. I wasn't. So why was I the one to get tagged? I had an arm-full of papers and the kitten ran in between my legs and the dog followed. Papers flew up and my body vaulted downward...right on my knees. We have tile floors. Let me just say I sat on the ground not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Instead I got mad. Really mad. Poor Cosmos stood by my side as I pulled off my best Nancy Kerrigan cry "Why me???" Baby Kitty was the smartest and hid behind the couch.
I don't need a cane or a walker. I have my broom. I carried that broom around in the morning and in the evening. Anytime I see that kitten, I sweep that broom and she high-tails it in the opposite direction. Cosmos isn't any better in the mornings. He runs and turns and basically gets under foot. My broom is my ba bam sweeper. Think I could market it?
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