Since bringing Baby Bliss (yes, his-well, hopefully it’s a he-name is Bliss for those who asked) I have been doing a lot of yelling.
I chose to yell “we’re all friends!” at the cats. Because as a teacher, I know it’s better to pick positive words. (We’ll ignore what friend means to a teacher, ok?)
And as a teacher I also read a lot of books where animals comprehend human speech. So I’m delusional and think they understand.
Sure, it’s not each other, but it’s a step.
This step meant that I could be friends with my kitchen tonight.
I’m spending most of this week (Today-Thurs at the least) teaching Kindergarten.
It’s fantastic because they think I’m nice and pretty and hilarious. (Sample comedy from today: “In Canada, the last letter of the alphabet, that says the zzz sound? They call that letter name zed!” Had then in stitches. If there were comedy clubs that catered to 5 year olds I could have a new career)
Being the funniest person in the room is hard work, so I tried to knock out a ton of food prep tonight while the cats were cautiously tolerating each other.
I got tomorrow’s dinner in the crockpot
Packed up my lunch: Couscous + carrots + spinach + hummus
And yogurt (homemade again-I’ve made three batches now!) with blueberries
I realized the yogurt would be far more delicious with some granola. And we were out.
Cause I like being funny and all, but I don’t wanna smell funny. Little kids have no tact. If you’re stinky they’ll let you know. Repeatedly.
Teaching is awesome for your ego (“I like you!” “you’re nice!” “you’re pretty!”) until the day you go to work with a pimple and have to answer the question “Mrs, what’s on your face?” all. day. long.
And now I’m going to go enjoy the blissful quiet of my cats not currently trying to eat each other.