Snapshots of Bekahland

* Last Friday night, I'd just fallen asleep when I awakened to a strange sound. Took me a minute to figure out where I was...who I was...all those sorts of suddenly-awakened things. I glanced to the left to see two hind legs on my pillow. I looked up...up...up...and these two darling blue eyes looked back at me. Braeya was perched ON the pillow, batting at the picture on the wall above my head. It's a 16x20 and was swinging precariously back and forth.

I looked at her and said, "Do I not provide an actual BOX of toys for you? Are you bored in some way? Unfulfilled here in your castle? It's the middle of the night! GO TO SLEEP!" This was NOT how I wanted to die - murdered by bored cat knocking decorations off the wall.

* Tuesday afternoon, I had to cover the phones for a while, so I ruled out all projects requiring undivided attention. Lynne is starting a Mid-Morning blog, and my job was to set it up. I'm a pro, right? I've been blogging forever! I can set up and design blogs IN MY SLEEP.

Right.

In between phone calls, I worked my way through the setup screens. You know those little word verification things?

Oh my goodness.

I entered all the information, hit submit, and read "We're sorry. The characters you typed did not match the displayed characters."

I tried again.

"We're sorry. The characters you typed did not match the displayed characters."

Again.

"We're sorry. The characters you typed did not match the displayed characters."

I tried listening to it - you know - the "cheating help?"

"We're sorry. The characters you typed did not match the displayed characters."

ARE YOU STINKING KIDDING ME?

Y'all, it took me twenty minutes to outsmart that stupid word verification. I was literally sweating at the end of it. (Sorry. That's unattractive. But true!)

* That same day, I came home from work and heard this fast-paced, high-pitched chirping sound. Braeya met me at the door, did her traditional flop-over-and-scratch-a-little-to-the-left-please bit, and I said to her, "What's that noise, girlie?"

She scampered ahead of me (I swear she's just like a tattling kid) and led me right to the noise: her favorite mouse toy, which squeaks when moved. Apparently something malfunctioned in the squeaker and it began to squeak full time. She sat down and looked at me like It wasn't me, Mom. Can you please make it stop?

I stomped on it a few times.

Nothing. Well - except more constant chirping. So I turned on the bathroom fan to drown it out and said, "Please little fake mousie - please die before bedtime. Otherwise you're going outside."

It was at the point of talking to a fake chirping mouse that I began to question my sanity.

Good grief.