Poor, Poor Pitter

Well, it's officially. My tummy has officially gotten in the way of our oldest "child" Pitter. When I moved in with Kelly, her oldest cat claimed me as her own. She crawls up on my chest, buries her head in my neck and is perfectly contented to stay right there. And I love her there - I've got no problems.

However, it seems that my ever-expanding tummy has gotten in her way. Last night, she paced all around my lap, trying to climb up to where she wanted to be, doing everything in her power to get me to fix it, and still was unsatified with the result.

Poor, poor Pitter. Just wait until she starts to feel the baby kick her when she's on my tummy. That ought to be quite humerous!

Kelly and I are looking forward to another long weekend. Super-long for her. It seems that the government will close for the funeral of President Ford on Tuesday, leaving her with another four day weekend. Conveniently, the border for the baby's room arrived yesterday. I can already feel a LONG weekend at Lowes (Home Depot, maybe?) picking out paint colors and the lovely, lovely sound of tape being ripped of the roll. LOL - don't get me wrong, I love it that she'll have a project. I'm going to clean while she paints, tapes and becomes a whirling dirvish of baby-room maker. BUT...it never works out very well for me. I lose my honey to her project.

Sigh. It's all for the cause. Maybe I'll join her for a while painting. Except that I hate to paint. I generally hate to do anything that is not domestic. And, while I get that painting to some is domestic, to me it is NOT! LOL!

Ah well. I'm looking forward to stroking her ego for a job very well done, bringing her fresh cold water and preparing her meals. Now THAT I am good at....LOL!

Happy New Year, everyone!