I managed another cereal disaster tonight. I was curled up in bed with a puzzle book and a bowl of oatmeal, when the cats came up for their bedtime treats. In the process of giving Hunter his treat and keeping Abby away from it, I managed to pour part of the oatmeal into my lap. It wasn't much, thank goodness, but enough to soak through the sheet onto the mattress pad. I refuse to change sheets at this hour of the night. So I got up, mopped up the oatmeal from the bed and floor, washed milk off of my legs, changed nightgowns, and put a couple of towels on the bed. I'll sleep on towels again tonight and wash the sheets and mattress pad in the morning. I never had this problem when you were here. This is the third cereal disaster since you left and forgot to take me with you, . See what trouble you've caused?
My brain surprised me again a few days ago. I saw a commercial for those books you can make on line with your own photos and things, like the one Jen made for us several years ago. And I immediately thought that it was perfect for me to do for you for Christmas this year. I could put in photos of the cats, the things I've changed in the house, my hair getting long, so you could see everything you're missing. Then I heard myself.
It was an interesting brain glitch. If you were still here, I wouldn't need to make one for you. Since you're not here, I can't send one to you. You need the book. But you'd also need a mailing address, and I don't believe you have one. I'd rather you have an internet connection than a mailing address. Until I can be with you, what I really want is to Skype with you. That would be much better than sending you a Christmas present. So there's your priority - get to work on it, will you? That can be your Christmas present to me. I'll await your call!
Waiting to hear your voice,