This past weekend, The Boy and I were out of town at the same time since we returned from Europe in May. The Boy was at a train show in Evanston.
I was in Utah with my family riding this.
And then I went back to Rock Springs to the county fair where I saw this.
And saw Phil Vassar in concert with a beautiful desert sunset in the background.
While we were having a great time, I worried about the kittehs. So, whilst my nephew and niece exchanged tokens for tickets at Chuck E. Cheese on Saturday, I sent a text to Lori, bestest kitteh-sitter in all the land.
Where the kittehs okay? Were they not too freaked out?
Lori’s entrance into the house each day was met with apocalypse-sized drama. There was moaning and crying. Glares and pouting. I was very worried until we got home.
Oliver says that Lori exaggerates and that – other than that they hadn’t eaten for like TWO WEEKS while we were gone for three days – they were fine. I opened a can of food for them, even though it was midnight and the breakfast bell would be ringing waaaaay before any of us would like. Sometimes, a little home cooking – or Mama’s come home cooking – is all you need to soothe a troubled soul.