Not My Cover-Up!

I walked into the house tonight with the weekend spreading before me like a cheap whore. It was heavenly. There is nothing better than the front door when you've been sitting in your car behind crazy people who can't remember to turn on their signals and can't be bothered to actually turn when the arrow goes green in any case. Walking through that door and being greeted by a happy cat and a smiling Bruce is pure bliss.

Having no particular place to go, I sat down at the computer and plugged The Sims into the disk drive. It was giving me problems, so I decided to change into more comfortable (but much less attractive) clothes.

On the way to the bedroom, I watched the cat playing with his scratching post for a minute. It hangs from the hallway bathroom knob, because I figured out yesterday that he didn't use it when it was on the closet door because sometimes the closet popped open. That sort of thing scares a Linus. He's used it more in the past day than since we moved in. Bruce saw me looking at the bathroom door and warned, "I wouldn't use that one, if I was you."

I nodded in his direction, knowing he didn't realize my intent was not to pee, but to change clothes. I did so in the closet, because hey, it's big enough to change in, and isn't that amazing? And also because the blinds were open. Seeking comfort rather than fashionista status, I tie red striped kerchief in my hair and dress in one of my pregnant shirts and a pair of Bruce's boxers. I return to the computer room to play.

Bruce looked up from his computer and said, "Hey, the Linus got into something in the bathroom. I think it was your makeup or something. He really tore stuff up in there."

Blank stare from me.

"I just left it, I figured you'd know what it was."

"Are you sure it wasn't me?" I ask.

What a freaking ridiculous response. Are you as amused by that as I am?

Now, I know as well as the next guy that pretty much anyone can tell a cat-mess from a human-mess, but last night before going out, I spilled some of my blusher on the countertop in there. I didn't want to think about Linus getting into my stash of makeup, small though it might be. I never buy makeup, most of my stuff is over two years old, and I treasure the stuff I do have. The more I thought about it, the more it was starting to bother me. Jesus, what if he got my cover-up?



Isn't Bruce the sweetest?

PS: I saw Peeps flavored lip gloss at work today. Seriously. Peeps flavored lip gloss. Why not abandon the pretense there and just call it sugar flavored?