the Kids Name the Dumb (but Nice) Cat

How can we get rid of him when the kids have already named him? It is him--I finally checked. At last check, his name was Gopher. Poor kids, they are so pet-deprived they don't even know how to properly name a cat. Chances are they will continue to be pet-deprived, but it's now Wednesday and he's still around. Drastic measures will have to be taken... (no, Mouse, I do not mean Tylenol)

He has already proved beneficial in keeping the pesky neighborhood children at bay. I saw Stefan crying on our porch, and when I went to investigate, he pointed at the cat and said he was scared. How sweet of me to escort him home. Heh heh.

I'm thinking maybe the cat can disappear while we are living at Grandma's house. Our entire downstairs is a wreck from the kitchen remodel, so the kids and I are taking a mini-vacation to Grandma's. Mark sleeps here, but during the day he is busy, busy, busy at the house. Not exactly the restful (the babies don't like sleeping here) or peaceful (Grace is whinier from lack of sleep) vacation of my dreams, but fun nonetheless. Sadie especially likes it here, for instead of carrots, rice, crackers, applesauce, and other non-edible things, she eats dog food and puzzle pieces to her heart's content. Sophie's favorite part of staying at Grandma's house is Grandma. She follows my mom around and climbs up her legs at every opportunity. The older kids are enjoying the use of their neighbor's pool.

Did I mention that our dishwasher broke? Yup. Flies were breeding in the puddle of grossness in the kitchen duct work. Mark cut and bound that part of the duct, and then we had a fun way of getting things to the basement. To his hilarity, Bradford shot a whistling nerf dart up from the basement while I was standing in the kitchen and scared me.

Mark is now looking for his new Father's Day Dishwasher on-line, and I'm going to write down what I want to do with 20 pounds of chicken tenders. Fun times at Grandma's. Ta ta.