My name is Cleve and my mom put me in charge of today’s post. You will probably get to know me a little better since she is going to make me guest (or is that ghost?) write for her from time to time. She’ll try to pass it off as literary license, but when you see ME writing–you’ll know that’s code for, “CRAP! My story isn’t ready yet!”
Anyway, she wanted me to be sure that I thanked all of you for stopping by this week and reading her blog. The kind words and visits to the site have her completely overwhelmed with gratitude and a little bit freaked out about what to do next.
When you first read the entry on Tuesday, you probably thought, “Wow, this chick has it all figured out.” You might also have assumed that she takes life in stride with a melodious laugh all while fluttering around the house with her fancy good attitude, a pretty white apron, and photo-shopped smile.
Let’s just be honest here–she’s been a mess since Tuesday and I have had very little love, attention or chew toys (same goes for my Dad).
The truth is, the boys in this house (me, Daddy and Dane) are living on the edge with a scatter-brained, psycho mama. She has spaced off appointments, misplaced the ‘to-do’ list and become completely buried in her day job (assuming that her day job involves staring off into space while pecking at the computer with a phone in her ear.)
The house is a mess, there is no food in the fridge and Daddy has to be nervous about the low supply of toilet paper in the bathrooms. The laundry piles are as tall as the stacks of mail and the dog hair is not going to vacuum itself. We need our other girl (Tanna) home, but she’s away at college being all grown up and stuff. Mom hasn’t talked to me since Monday and I’m just about ready to put in my two weeks so I can find a new running partner.
But, since I love her, I’m going to bail her out and TCOB today–and probably a few more to come. My Mom said to thank you again and that she is hard at work on the new story. She has promised a piece on the KC Chiefs, but confided in me that the Chiefs will probably win on Sunday and that the story won’t be as funny if that happens. So, she is working on Plan B–something called Ghetto Groceries?
Hang tight and please check back when you have a moment to see what shows up. It’s time for me to sign off so I can yowl into the cold morning air and determine whether my big boy bark and sad puppy dog face are enough to lure her out to my pen. I’ll be even happier if I see the run-leash dangling from her arm, but I’m not holding my breath–at this point, I just hope that she doesn’t forget to feed me this week-end…..