2 days to “imaginary” moving day, $133 raised for your charities
On Friday, Squirrel emerged from his winter burrow. It happens exactly the same way every year.
He dusts the powder off his bushy tail, scrambles up to the kitchen island, takes a long slurp of his coffee and declares:
“We’ve really got to clean this place up!”
Oh really? I think as I’m unloading the dishwasher with one hand, flipping pancakes with the other, and correcting homework with the third that I seem to have grown during his seasonal absence.
I calmly remind him that the house actually does gets cleaned every week during ski season by the same glorious goddess that makes sure the children are fed, homework is done and everyone is wearing clean underwear.
Here’s where I’m afraid to say it gets ugly and if you’ve come to be fond of Squirrel, please cover your ears. In fact, I’m not even sure I heard it correctly – the sudden rushing of blood to my own head was so deafening. There was talk of that weekly cleaning not being….up to his standards???
Which instantly reminded me of the stashes:
And all my passive aggressive heart could think while watching him casually sip his coffee was:
It is so on!
In fact, with fighting words like those, I’m feeling decidedly unsentimental about which of Squirrel’s treasures make the moving day cut:
You see, I too have standards.
(Pending an apology, none of Squirrel’s things were actually disposed of in the writing of this blog.)