The Writing on the Wall

I've been feeling awful the last few days - just general body aches and pains compounded by binge eating and unnecessary exposure to paint fumes.

Mom finally got her red bedroom.

After a decade of dreaming in monochrome, she can now enjoy vivid dreams offset by cranberry red walls and sheer white curtains draping the bed.

My dreams, on the other hand, are still the same - food and feline-related - and I wouldn't have it any other way.

In honor of family expected over the long weekend, I spent a traumatizing day at the groomer's recently, where I was shaved, bathed and had my anal glands expressed by an unfamiliar woman. Trust me, guys, this is not as pleasant as it sounds - not when the woman squeezing a certain sensitive part of your posterior is close to 200 lbs. and can smother you in her ample bosom.

Thankfully, Orbit and Kariba left before witnessing my indignity. I look like a plucked chicken without my coat and humans now mistake me for a schnauzer. And the catcalls I have to endure on my morning walks...

The only silver lining in this cloud is that dad returned home after three long weeks, just in time for his 10th wedding anniversary. He took mom to a pricey Italian restaurant where the pasta sauce did not come out of a jar and there were at least four vegetarian options on the menu.

Here's a first: mom and dad went out to dinner without the kids and found the experience strangely delightful.
Here's a second: they actually made it through dinner and the ride home without any arguments. That hasn't happened since ... wait a minute, that's never happened!

Could it be the red room, you think?