Since Jon let me sleep in both Saturday and Sunday, I got up this morning at 6:30 AM when Marlo started screaming. Normally when she wakes up she just talks to herself, incorrectly telling her frog that it is a monkey over and over again. Cute, except that we’ve corrected this mistake several times, which means either she’s willfully ignoring us or she’s an idiot.

The scream this morning sounded like, hey, I just had a nightmare and it would be nice if you pretended to care about me. And since I’m all about appearances I ran into her room to pretend to comfort her. But when I got there, she was all smiles and giggles, clearly rubbing it in my face that she had duped me. That’s when I decided that I was going to spit in her cereal.

Since I got a head start on the morning, a lot of the daily chores that have to get done before I leave to take Leta to school saw completion before Jon even wandered downstairs. I fed both kids, unloaded the dishwasher, filed away some weekend mail, and I even fed the dogs. I know, nothing superhuman or heroic, but for a Monday morning? I may have said to Leta, “Do you see this? This is the definition of kicking butt. Do not repeat this to anyone at school.”

About ten minutes after Jon joined us in the kitchen I noticed that he had one of the dog’s bowls and was putting a spoonful of pumpkin into it. Several weeks ago the vet told us to start feeding Chuck pumpkin because it would help prevent his anal glands from becoming impacted. Yeah, that’s right. Our daily routine includes PREVENTION OF ANAL GLAND IMPACTION. I should receive an honorary doctorate for this.

“Jon,” I said. “I already fed the dogs.”

“You did?” he asked, and then he pointed to the two of them around the corner in the mud room waiting patiently for a second meal.

I got up from the couch, started walking over to the mud room, and when they both saw my face as I turned the corner all four ears instantly dropped backward in shame. Not even kidding, Coco looked at Chuck, Chuck looked at Coco, and their heads sunk lower and lower.

PSSSST! Act ignorant.

No, YOU act ignorant.

I stood there with a very disapproving look on my face, my hand perched on my hip to let them know I meant business. And then I snapped my fingers as I yelled, “BUSTED!” and felt distinctly like the Road Runner when the anvil drops on Wile E. Coyote’s head.