I was ironing my work outfit this morning when a thought hit me. It seemed like a great idea until I realized that it meant I had officially hit middle age. Then I went {{gag}}.
The thing is that I need a light robe to go out and get the paper in the morning and wait while the puppies find the perfect blade of grass to drench. I have one, but it tends to get dingy in one or two wearings (what with cat and dog hair and slobbers). And I don't like to wash clothes mid-week. So this thought zinged out of left field that I should invest in a few house coats - the kind you remember your grandmother wearing. Snaps down the front. Hideous prints. One side of my brain went "perfect", the other side went into convulsions.
So I think my better sense has kicked in and I won't be shopping in the matronly loungewear department just yet. I may, however, invest in a second spring robe.
The animals are having their own little identity crisis this week. My stereo has been disconnected for months. Possibly even a year or more. I finally got the broken pieces fixed and David reassembled everything for me while I was in Salt Lake City. Last night I finally had a chance to try it out and to play a few 45 rpm records. The animals flipped out.
There were VOICES coming out of those boxes that have just been sitting there all this time! There were weird pops when the needle hit a faint scratch. Mojo scrambled up the stairs and sat on the landing until I shut everything down. Boo and Scout were spooked and scrabbling out of the room. I couldn't figure out what was so different from the sounds coming out of the television set that they've all heard run for hours every day of their lives. But they were very happy when I went back to the television for entertainment and turned off those disembodied VOICES.
So I guess we have a generation gap here. Middle-aged lady on one side and hep cats and hot dogs on the other. Nothing like being looked on with pity by your pets.
LSW
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