Wednesday, June 30, 2010
We have birds. Baby birds. Mom says they are baby Stellar Jays.
She says that's why the old umbrella is still on the patio and not the new umbrella. She says that is why the oak trees did not get trimmed this spring.
She says first there was a nest and then there were eggs and now there are baby birds.
They are nekkid.
Mom says that soon they will grow downy feathers then grow flight feathers. And then they will fly.
All I know is that they are loud at supper time.
Just like Jib.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Mom says the cat is out of the bag. Jib is looking for the cat. I am looking for the bag. Bags have good stuff: meat, potato chips, cookies. Where is the bag?
Mom says that that's just an expression. What she really means is that Katy has another wee vending machine in the oven.
Is that just an expression, too? Or is she really cooking a baby????
And if it's a baby, will it crawl all over me? Or just drop me food from its high chair?
I hope it's the food thing.
Friday, June 4, 2010
I almost made it. I almost made it away. Down the street. Where Mom couldn't find me.
Mom put on her yellow apron. It smells different from her green apron. She says she lost her green one.
I thought this meant I wouldn't have a bath. Ever again.
But I was wrong.
Mom put on her yellow apron. I bolted. I didn't go at Zoe speed. I didn't go at Jibby speed. I am eleven and a half. I went at eleven and a half speed.
Even so, I kept in front of Mom. She left the side door open. I trotted past the dog bath and into the front yard. Mom came after me. I trotted onto the sidewalk. Mom threw her apron on the driveway and came for me again. I trotted down the block.
Then I forgot why I was running away from home. I remembered Mom. I remembered chicken thighs. I remembered cheese.
And when Mom called me again, I came running.
But then I remembered.
After I was dry and brushed, though, Mom took pictures of me in the front yard. I like having my picture taken.
So it wasn't totally awful.