I Don’t Care About the Cats

Today was just one more day of work from home. I didn’t really get anything good accomplished, but maybe I helped someone else get something done. Most of my morning was babysitting, getting the kids up and active with their own obligations.

Summer queued me up to take Autumn to a physical therapy appointment, so I dropped her off and went home to shower. When I picked her back up, we went by Walmart for a couple things for dinner. Then I stopped by Lowe’s to pick up an online order. That ended up being a little bit of an ordeal, and they were visibly frustrated with how busy they were.

When we got back to Summer’s, I started the ham bone soup for dinner and waited for her to get home from work. She came home saying she was being peer pressured into watching Tiger King on Netflix, so she made me sit down with her to watch the first episode.

I could not have been any less interested. Either the rest of the world just wasn’t already aware that big-cat people are weird, or the quarantine business has gotten them so down and bored that they’ll watch anything. I ended up playing Alto’s Adventure on my phone until even Summer couldn’t take it any more. It just wasn’t interesting, and was completely and predictably stupid. Maybe I was just aware of that particular subculture because Dad was into magic, and I remembered that Siegfried & Roy had a stage show.

Autumn started making chocolate chip cookies, and the rest of us watched an episode of Glee until Summer went to bed. Then Eaddie and I started on a surprisingly addictive first season of Iron Fist. I didn’t think I would like it based on the first episode, but each episode after that kept me hooked on that auto-play feature of Netflix.

The cookies were perfect, but we’ve gotta get off of snacks.

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