Thursday Mix Up

Critter has a pretty packed schedule. School. Homework. Taking care of five cats. Volunteering at the Oregon Humane Society. Sometimes, you have to plan ahead and carve out your day. Today was no exception.Her school is participating in Spirit Week activities. Each day this week, the students dress in a different ensemble. Monday was Pajama Day. Wednesday was Twin Day. Today is Mix It Up Day. Critter took it heart.

Not only did she find time to dress the part, she came home and tidied the living room AND made us dinner. Chicken with fresh veggies and noodles. Banana pudding for dessert.

She topped each little blue bowl of pudding with fresh banana slices and a Disney spoon from our silverware drawer. I had set the table with our other "everyday" flatware and pointed to the spoon by her napkin. She shook her head, holding up the small Mickey teaspoon. "No, you've got to use the little spoon."

"Why is that?" I asked.

CrafterKat and Critter answered in unison. "So you can savor every bite."

When Fortune Calls, Offer Her A Chair

We have a slight problem.

After our kitchen remodel was completed last fall, we decided to get some new furniture. Our minds were made up as to the style and comfort level we desired. A couch that could easily sit three people and be long enough to sleep on should we find the need to check our "eyeballs for leaks." And a comfortable, stylish chair in a different fabric to compliment the new kitchen walls and anchor the room.

We searched several stores for the perfect combination that fit our new style and our pocketbook. At last we found a soft leather couch that had an extension on one end where you could stretch out lazily or seat a fourth person of the teenage variety. “Wait,” said the sales clerk. “Watch this.” And he swapped out the extension with the matching end chair, turning the L-shaped couch into a simple three-person sofa; the chair suddenly transformed into a lush fainting couch.

We were sold and bought the couch and side chair immediately.

The complimentary chair took a bit more searching. We had tried several from a modern, round-backed leather chair that swiveled 360 degrees (the Captain Kirk chair I called it which shot down any hope of it living in our home), to chairs that sucked you down into their fluffy cushions and wouldn’t let you out without a crowbar.

This second chair needed to be stylish, simple, and firm. And yet comfortable enough that you could sit in it all afternoon. And we found one. We covered it in soft suede that matched our pirate red wall in the kitchen. Perfect.

And LaLa would agree, I think. At most every visit, this chair is the seat she claims in the living room. It’s perfect for completing crossword puzzles, sewing embroidered cards or pillowcases, and typing up journals from the 1970’s into her laptop. When LaLa enters the room, we vacate The Chair. It’s just common sense.

But now we have a small problem.

Pretty Boy looks good on red.


And he’s not giving up The Chair without a struggle snuggle.

Bassist Syndrome

While Critter and I waited in the doctor's office on Monday, she flipped through a People magazine and landed on a photo of the Fall Out Boys: four leather-clad, college-aged kids, not smiling at the camera. She tapped the face of one youth, his eyes mostly covered by straight black hair. "The Fall Out Boys would be nothing with out Pete."

I glanced at the caption beneath: Pete Wentz, bassist. Oh, dear Lord, not a bass guitar player. Sting, John Taylor... I was hit hard at her age, too. I kept my voice calm. "Oh, is he the singer? Is that why the band wouldn't be successful?"

"No. He's just the good looking one. Without him...." she left unsaid that their popularity would plummet without his mussed up locks and sneer.