It was 5AM. Jerry and I were enjoying, well, maybe not enjoying...but, partaking in our new morning routine. Coffee was brewed. Various charts of Greek were spread on the dining table where Jerry was practicing orthography in preparation for his quiz. I was turning on monitors and printers (yes, plural...two of each!), hoping to get a couple of hours of "at-home work" in before the girls rose.
But then the kittens detected our presence and set in with their craziness. Dive bombing from the backs of high chairs. Chewing on dangling cords. Pouncing on Blackie, who is still not crazy about them...which means a fight ensued.
Wait, you didn't know we had kittens? Oh how this poor blog is neglected. More to come...soon, I hope.
Jerry could not study and I could not work. The kittens had to be locked up.
This great 1960s house once had a patio. Said patio, was long ago enclosed and currently houses our playroom. However, the humongo glass doors are still intact. We have camouflaged them with curtains until we decide if we are going to sheet rock or just install prettier doors.
Jerry locked the kittens in the playroom by sliding the glass doors shut. Problem solved.
We went about our study and work.
Almost two hours later it was time to get Lily up and ready for school. Picture day no less. I was trying to find the longer of her two black uniform ties. I figured they must have stayed in her dance bag after changing last week. The dance bag hangs in the playroom. I was going to quickly retrieve them in the morning rush.
But I was stopped. Dead in my tracks. My nose caught all of the force of my body going forward as it smashed into the glass door.
It was loud. I wasn't even sure what had just happened to me. Jerry wanted to laugh, but my instant tears informed him not to.
The door did not break. It may have been less painful if it had. Had my nose though? No blood or crookedness. I guess not. Shear pain though. Congestion and a bit of swelling...maybe just from my tears?
While I can't wait to see the bruising as the day progresses, my husband just can't wait to laugh.
As he walked out the door to work, he asked, "Can I at least laugh now?"
"No! It still hurts", I replied.
Then he prodded me to at least open the glass door again so I could see the mark my face had made on the glass when I had smacked into it.
Sure enough...I did and then I laughed. But he is still not allowed to.
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