Purposeful musings

The cat has a much better life than I do. Of course, this is self evident with most cats, but Harry the Attack Cat has it particularly better than me in the following respects:

• He has beautiful easy-care short hair and doesn't care that some of it is white
• He can sleep upside down - back-sleeping kills me
• He has at least two houses and a choice of marital beds, lounges and rugs on which to settle
• He has the absolute and fearful respect of my children. I'm going through a bit of a "seen and not heard" phase and the notion of fearful respect seems pretty sensible to me.
• While many of us occasionally end up under the table, only Harry seems to attain that state with cushions. I give you Exhibit A:

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Thanks to inspiration taken from the lovely Kim, an uneasy peace has settled in the twins' bunk bed.

Stupid, stupid, stupid mummy was so obsessed with getting the kids more floor space that she completely neglected the single most important aspect of a bunk bed arrangement: who's going to be on top?

Stupid, stupid, stupid mummy also failed to realise that in most cases the bunk bed allocation is a no-brainer: one child is older than the other and so earns the top bunk by process of evolutionary principles.

This is not an option when the one child is older than the other by one lousy minute, even if he is a head taller than her now...

So, the lovely Kim, who dealt with similar issues with the vociferous Felix and the rightful elder Oscar (can you tell I"m the oldest of three siblings? See how I just assume that everything can be solved by giving it to the eldest child?) cleverly had come up with a roster system for her boys.

In her case it was one month up, one month down. A month translates to something like 15 years in big toddler speak, so we've made it one night up, one night down and apart from the first vile three nights of tantrums, it has worked a bloody treat.'

All we have to do is throw the down pillow and quilt up and the up pillow and quilt down, and the Gorgeous Boy and Fairy Sparkle (her new self-nomination) happily trade places. The hope is that one of them will finally decide that the bottom bunk is best.

But it hasn't happened yet. Exhibit B:

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It is a truth universally acknowledged that a dog, given a choice, will sleep in the place most likely to cause inconvenience and possibly injury to the people it loves.

Exhibit C:

See there? That spot between the table and the pantry? Between the stove and the sink and dishwasher? Yep, that looks comfy, a dog could definitely get a good rest in there...

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It is also a truth, universally acknowledged, that this is the one and only quotable line from anything Jane Austen ever produced.

While I will gaze, breathless, at Colin Firth in Mr Darcy breeches ANY time...

...the text of most Austen is indulgent girly clap trap. The only literary tradition that can be supported by Austen is the tradition of airport romance novels. Ick.

See how my HSC set texts have scarred me for life?

mtc

Bec