Warm, Fuzzy Thoughts

I was sitting in the dark, in the corner of our kitchen, late, late on Sunday night. The dishwasher was filled with clean dishes, and there was a sink-ful of dirty ones (Ken likes to stack them up neatly but ignores the fact that all the crud is being left to dry like concrete)...these are the things that a woman ponders in the middle of mindless snacking. I was wondering why I was so tired, even though it was coming up on midnight, and confused about why I had no incentive to clean up the mess. It seemed so peaceful in the twilight, but tomorrow's trouble was baking right in front of me. I threw up my hands and went to bed. That's never a good idea, because apparently our brains never go to sleep and I dreamt about critters feeding on the detritus all night, to the soundtrack of some creepy song on a true-crime station on YouTube. No, they have not found JonBenet's killer, no matter how many podcasts I've listened to...

This morning, in the light of day and with strange sleep patterns from last night, I surveyed the new week and the old. I have my yummy new Pixiebob kitten, Jillian, zooming all over the room. A new pet in the house is rather like having a new baby. The old cat, who is 16, thinks that I should now be strung up by my toenails. At some point this week, I have kept all but one of our 13 grandchildren. We had overnight company, with our daughter's family staying here while our son-in-law worked on fixing our front walk (yes, herringbone!) Last, but not least, the dentist informed me that all four of my upper front teeth had to be replaced with crowns. Those who know me, and many who don't, know that yes, I'm headed for heaven, thanks to the blood of the Lamb. But here on earth, there's some kind of purgatory or maybe even hell related to me and the subject of teeth. Even though I have been ever-faithful in the flossing and brushing of them, I must bear the tribulation of bad ones. My MawMaw would say, "They're just crumbly." She said that about her bones, and maybe that's happening here too. 

We have found that the best solution, when approaching any serious event in a dentist's chair, is to sedate me. My dentist wisely pumps my gums full of Novacaine, but before that he prescribes drugs that I happily take. I had my 11-pound babies a-naturale, but don't be messin' with my teeth without knocking me out. And don't touch my feet, either. Our daughter, Liz, picked me up after the procedure because I wasn't allowed to drive home. Ken told her to put me in the recliner and just stick the kitten on top of me. I don't remember any of that, but there was a warm, purring being there when I woke up, hours later. And people wonder why pets are important...