the day in which I’m made liar

Apparently, I lied to D and A when I told them mid-August was when teaching assignments come in. They came today. [Sorry to scare the crap out of you guys.]

I lied to friend/fellow GS leader tonight when I told him: “Josh is getting a little easier. I don’t have to follow him around and dig toys from his mouth anymore.” J-baby promptly found some Polly Pocket acoutrement and hid it in his chipmunk cheeks.

I lied to another friend on the phone, whom I told that when Brian is out of town, as he is this week, I tend to be more efficient and productive, as I don’t have to worry about, wait for, or fit in his schedule/agenda. Two days he’s been gone and the house is still a wreck, I still have to sand and re-mud the second bedroom upstairs, and I’m blogging instead of working on my summer fellowship project. Also, I forgot that: Brian not here = Madeline can’t run, and that makes me cranky.

I lied when I told the kids that NO, we could not keep the kitten that Sophie (aka Crack Rock) the stray birthed this weekend. I called *the one* shelter in Oswego County this afternoon and the nice man nearly laughed when I asked did he have room for a mama cat and kitten. Apparently, there’s nothing I can do except keep feeding them and hope I can afford to have them fixed before they start popping out more puppies.

Hannah has already named the kitten Sugar, which is a nice name for a kitty, except this kitty is black with small patches of dark tiger stripes. I would’ve gone with something more edgy. Maybe Keats. We had a brown tiger when I was growing up named Keats. He belonged to a friend of my mom’s who had to move, or travel, or something and so we adopted him. I always thought it was a good name, even though the reference was lost on me until, say, a few weeks ago.


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