Friday Confessional

Ah Friday.  That means it is time to dance my way over to the confessional and get a few things off of my chest.  My thanks to the lovely Aubrey over at High-Heeled Love for graciously unlocking the doors so we can all confess our dirty little secrets.  Or not so dirty.  Click the link or the icon above to come confess with us and link up.

I confess…

I put on 4 pounds again.  Grrrrr…’s water, as I am once again in PMS bloat-up-like-a-water-logged-cadaver-in-the-swamp mode, which seems to be increasing in frequency these days.  This does not make me happy but is part of the glorious menopause chapter of life.  Oh lucky me.  It would help if I bothered to drink my 64 ounces of water but I usually forget lately.

I confess…

I really was bad with the dog today.  She isn’t supposed to have anything other than her prescription dog food.  For treats we can bake the canned version, into little cookies, but nothing else as she gets bladder stones.  In the near future she needs surgery for that very issues…again.  But long ago in another life when I resided with he-who-shall-not-be-named, I had established a bad habit and routine with the puppy.  Every time I went to the grocery store I bought her something too.  So upon my arrival home with the plastic bags (don’t hate, we reuse them for an abundance of things) she knew that meant mommy had a treat.  Who knew that 3.5 years later, as she is again residing with me,  the pup would remember this??? She waits patiently wagging her tail (okay it’s a stump because they cut Yorkie tails) when I return from the store.  I opt for a small piece of cheese usually, but today I brought home a raw hide, peanut butter flavored bone.  I am far above Marvelous to the 4-legged furry kid now.  But she must be watched as she manages to chew and work it into long, soft pieces and choke on it.  She also poops out paper money like an ATM because she finds cash and eats it, but that is another story.

I confess…

1098173_425647324218655_1928846249_nI may have bribed the Knight’s children this morning.  I needed to go over the river to get my hair cut and needed them to be good because there wasn’t time for my morning coffee and energy drink.  They were tired and crabby because we had to get out of bed early.  So, being the marvelously creative type that I am, yet firing mentally on limited brain cells at that hour, I promised McDonald’s for breakfast if they would just remain cool, calm and collected.  They did.  They now think I am close to walking on water as I introduced them to chocolate chip frappe’s, my current kryptonite.  Hey, really, who the heck wants milk with breakfast, right? Shhhh, I know, that is why I’m confessing.

I confess…

The honeymoon is quite possibly over here in the palace.  The Knight dared to NOT replace the empty roll of toilet tissue, leaving the naked, cardboard tube there on the roller thingie.  I was not impressed.  I didn’t feel like digging through my superhero duffle bag for my tiara, tutu, wings and magic wand when it was bed time.  I made him get up and restock it himself, the Restock Fairy wasn’t “feeling” it that night.

I confess…

I need to be careful about what I wish for, as it seems to happen in abundance and not quite the way I hope sometimes.  I miss my cat at night.  For 3 years, up until moving in to the Palace, my cat has been a constant at night.  As a tiny, 4 week old orphan, she slept against my cheek on my pillow, sometimes with her head on my hand.  As she grew up she moved down to curling up against my leg or foot.  Pixel was my baby, my heart band-aid, and that is perhaps the one draw back here.  The Knight is against the 4-legged, furry kids with tails sleeping on our bed or even in the room.  Only exception being the dog as she is crated at night.  I have teased him about opening the bedroom door when he falls asleep, and even tried one night to ‘forget’ to close it but he caught it.  Last night his 11yo lost a tooth and felt the need to come wake us up to share the news, and when he left the room didn’t quite get the door closed.  At some unearthly hour of the night one of the cats, Ditzy, found to her joy that she could come in and join us.  Over. And. Over.  She was on our heads, my hip, everywhere, meowing and purring and drooling (seriously did not know she really did this), and she is now on the Knight’s poopoo list.  As funny as it is at the moment, it was less than amusing over and over throughout the night.  Might have to rethink this.

Everyone have an awesome weekend!



  1. Okay, you said don’t hate on the plastic bags but I gotta hate on the plastic bags. Fabric bags can be used for a lot of things too w/o killing birds & marine life. They make cornstarch bio bags for pet cleanup that won’t outlive your grandchildren. I get it. I really do. But you also get it which is why you know they’re vile things. Spoke my peace. Glad all is going well. Also, Im team no pet hair on the bed.

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