This past weekend, The Boy and I were in Utah with my family for our annual trip to an amusement park. When we returned on Monday evening, the kittehs were not happy with us. We had, after all, been gone for days or months or years.
Never fear. I am very good at buying forgiveness.
I stepped out onto the porch to get the mail. Obi went to the door with me, ever obsessed with the possibility of a miller. About 20 flew out of the mailbox as I pulled the envelopes out. They were gone before I had a chance to react.
As I stepped inside, though, I saw wings fluttering on the stack of papers in my hand. “Obi! You’ve got mail.” I held the envelope down at kitten height. A happy brown kitten knocked the miller to the floor, then took his moth to the cave to play.
Oliver required a gift as well: my stinky shoes.