They Conspire Against Me, I Swear It

Pssssssst.

Please don't tell CPS. Authorities of any kind. I'm not insane. Not totally anyway. Y'see................

They're plotting against me.

They work together, they get a daily break. A little down time. But me? Noooooooo! I never get a break. Nerp, nada, nope. It's so not fair. I never get to recharge my Radio Shack batteries and they are on super-charged Duracell batteries. They are breaking me down slowly.

It's like this.............

First, these little urchins communicate with one another.






The smaller one falls asleep. The bigger one taunts me by saying he's ready for a nap also. Wooooooo, I'm on my way, I think!


Nerp.


The bigger one needs help getting this contraption on:











Ok, contraption on.










Now, perhaps Spiderman will play Nick Jr. while I am resting.


Nerp.


The FlashPlayer/Shockwave/WhateEverTheHell, IT AIN'T WORKING!!! warning-from-hell displays, inciting an incredibly loud "Mommmmeeeeeeeee" as I lay at his feet with a pillow and a baby monitor.

I fix it. I grab my pillow, my monitor, this time a blankie, too. Inspecting the inside of my eyelids is nice. Nice.



Suddenly, this bitch is nudging me. She wants out. I weigh the pros/cons of letting her out or cleaning up her pet stain later.




(Really, bitch = female dog. Just building my vocabulary there, honest.)





Anyhoo, how pathetic and desperate is that train of thought? Ech. I hate pet stains. I let the bitch out.



I lay back in my digs on the cold floor. I'm about to snooze.



-- IMAGE FAILED OF COCKATIEL BIRD WITH SILLY SMILEY FACE/TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES!! --




Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup, chirp, chirp, chirrup, churrup.

I get up, and place a clean towel on the the cage to cover the racket. I'll have to wash that towel again. Grumble, grumble.

I lay back in my digs on the cold floor. I practice deep breathing, I slightly forgive the bird. I'm about to snooze............



"Erf, erf, erf, erf."


It'll go away. It'll go away. It. Will. Go. Away.


(See? See? I'm capable of positive thinking!!!!)



"Erf, erf, erf, erf."


I let the bitch in.



Click, click, click, Dora's Annoying Voice, SAYMAP!!!I'MTHEMAPI'MTHEMAPI'MTHEMAP click, click, click.

I turn the damned computer speakers down.



Aaaaah. Dog is in. Bird is covered. Boy is occupied, yet supervised as I'm at his feet. Baby is in bed.


Aaaaaaah.




-- IMAGE FAILED OF AWAKE INFANT SMILING RIDICULOUSLY WITH SILLY SMILEY FACE/TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES! --





Look who's ready to play!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With his timing, he should be a comedian. The next friggin' Johnny Carson.

I'm so amused.

Especially now that Spiderman went into his room and crawled into bed, the dog is snoring, the bird has her head tucked under her wing, and the baby looks ready to go, go, go!

It's a vast conspiracy. I think I'll turn myself in to the men in white jackets. A nice, quiet rubber room sounds nice this time of year.