Yesterday evening I was whirling around the house, frantic to finish my to-do list, cleaning, watering plants, checking the oil in my car, getting my old man kitty his medicine (he had other, contrary plans), yadda yadda, when I caught Gary scribbling some additional items at the end of my to-do list, which was laying on the kitchen counter.
I waltzed over to see what he was adding, and I saw this chicken-scratched at the bottom of my list:
HAVE WILD, PASSIONATE MONKEY LOVE
I cracked up laughing as he reminded that I always say if it’s on the list, then it must be done.
Monkey love? I don’t want to know where he picked up that dorky phrase. I really don’t.
Onto other matters. How does anyone at work expect me to catch up on the NHL playoff scores if they keep interrupting me with work?