In a celebration of life, I took a bunch of pictures of my cat today. I downloaded the Instagram app earlier in the week and it's pretty much my new favorite thing. Ajax is the most photogenic guy I know, and a willing subject, so we've been having some good times together.
I walked into the bedroom this afternoon and found this little nugget:
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| Kitties and clean laundry. Aw. |
If this had been my laundry, this picture wouldn't even exist, for a few reasons. My laundry wouldn't be hanging out getting wrinkled, because I fold it the instant the dryer buzzes. If by some lapse of Katieness, I neglected to fold my laundry immediately, if a cat, however adorable, was getting his hair and dander all up in my delicate business, I'd be tossing him out by his scruff. Not gazing fondly and snapping photos.
After taking this photo, we went across town and walked a few laps around a "scenic trail" which was really a path littered with land-mines of dog feces surrounded by a bunch of dried weeds and gnarled trees next to a swamp. It was nice to get outside in the fresh air and sun, though.
We came back to this literal 180:
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| About face. |
Aaand Andy's laundry is still sitting in that pile, hours later. Before you think I'm a horrible, lousy, mean wife (even though I am...my feet are huge so I really have difficulty standing sufficiently close to the stove) for not washing or folding my husband's laundry when I obviously do such a thorough job with my own wash, we do separate loads of wash because our washer is tiny. It just makes more sense that way. Or maybe I just made that up because I didn't feel like doing so much laundry.
For your further titillation, I submit:
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