Over the past few days I've noticed something a bit strange going on in my office. My home office. My "office" AKA my spare bedroom-sized closet. Every day when I've come home from work, I noticed that the duvet on the guest bed has been quite literally turned down, like it was a bed in a high-end hotel awaiting a pair of newlyweds. Seeing how we haven't had a guest for a month or two, and how we're anything but high-end, it got me wondering what was going on. Perhaps dear sweet J decided to crash there after an all-nighter at work? But I should've known. Last night I passed by her in the hallway as she trotted out of my office in the dark. She gave me her best "Who me? I was simply looking for my misplaced tussy mussy!" waggle, waggle, pet-me-and-forget-all-your-troubles face.
But this morning, oh I was too fast for her. Caught in the act. Behold the culprit. Miss Mary. Such a lady. She doesn't sleep on beds. She sleeps in beds.
1 comments:
My dogs also insist on sleeping under the covers, and our Beagle, since the weather has gotten cold, insists on being "tucked in" to his dog bed with a blanket or else he won't lay down and sleep. Spoiled much?
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