I had a fairly productive morning, involving cleaning, mostly, and clean sheets. I feel like I accomplished something if I get around to changing the sheets. My mother does it every Monday, but then, she is a Virgo.
The Dog got randomly freaky, and decided he had to be right next to me. I find clinginess to be irritating in all life forms. He was trying to tell me something but I failed to read his signals. Hobo going though our recycling? Raccoon in the Vicinity? Please wash my dog bed cover, while you're at it? Who knows. I did not kick him, but I did accidentally step on his paw, at which point he gave up and sulked under the table.
After making copies of the Christmas letter (to be posted here on Dec. 24th) at Kinkos, I swung by school to pick up the Hooligans. The larger one needed to be dropped off at a friend's. The smaller one had a vision that involved going home with his friend Lucas, which was logistically difficult. I explained that playing with Lucas could happen soon, but not immediately. He became enraged.
Annoyed, I could understand, I mean, I don't like to delay my gratification, either, but this was ridiculous. I got tired of being berated. I pulled over and spoke to him firmly, something to the effect of: "If I hear one more negative word out of you, you will not get to play with anybody. You will have to stay by yourself in your room. Is that clear?"
He became quiet, but the atmosphere was charged with his indignation. As we rounded the corner, I heard a tiny voice "My mom tortures me."
I covered up my laugh with a fake cough. Torture my ass. At least I didn't stomp on his paw. When we got home, I forced him to eat, in case low blood sugar was the issue. I made him unload the dishwasher, as penance. Then we walked over to Lucas' together.