Editor’s note: due to the circumstances beyond my control (situation continuing from last week), this entry goes to print today, as opposed to Monday morning.
First of all, my news summary for last week: my roomy and I adopted a cat named George, and I became an official card-carrying member of the NRA.
On Sunday I again had to honour of playing host to Mini Not Me, this time accompanied by his older sister. Of course, they really wanted to see George, and then my roommate; yours truly came in the un-illustrious last. Highlights of the visit included:
Mini Me enjoying my roomie's Wii; gosh, I feel old, since I do not even have an IPod, never played, never mind became addicted to, any kind of video games, and yet to figure out what exactly Wii is. Meanwhile, our three year old American Gnome is playing Wii. My only consolation is that she was most interested in the pink TV that comes with that Wii, since she is very much into the color pink right now.
George was alternatively hiding on the bookshelf, between the boxes, and in the closet. The theory is that he was really scared by a bunch of kids before, because he is really scared of our munchkins. But the overtures were made towards the tentative peace treaty, eventually resulting in George not running away from Mini Me and even allowing her to pet him a bit.
Mini Not Me discovered my jewelry pouch, which I was unsuccessfully looking for on Friday night and Shabat morning. My theory is that he hid it somewhere on his last visit, and re-discovered it yesterday.
Mini Me, on the other hand, was seen playing with my key ring, which at the press time is still missing in action.
Royal meals were carefully prepared by two chefs this time: yours truly and the person sharing my humble dwelling. Mini Not Me participated with his usual appreciation. Although he requested a cookie and refused to eat without it, it (the cookie) ended up being just a slightly licked accessory in his delicious little hand. Mini Me, on the other hand, was her usual finicky eater.
We watched more Elmo and Barney on YouTube; the royal permissions were alternating and not always in accord (if he wanted to watch Barney, she wanted Elmo, and vice versa).
I finally connected the dots: Mini Not Me goes around singing "yummy, yummy, yum", and I could not figure out what precisely was he singing. This Sunday finally clarified the issue: it is Elmo and The Singing Pizza.
There were many more delicious hugs and smiles.
Which, of course, brings me to Monday morning, which said morning conveniently forgot that is was the beginning of March, and gifted us with more snow, freezing temperatures and blistery winds. This fact prompted your humble servant to propose the following course of action: Al Gore, all the senior ranking members of IPCC, senior ranking members of the Weather Channel, Leo DiCaprio and his Hollywood chums, and the rest of this cabal (including our so-called President) are to be taken in their skivvies, or better yet, in their altogether, outside of the UN Building and stuck in the freshly fallen snow under a heavily armed guard. They should remain thusly till they admit to their continuous, blatant, and malevolent lies about the anthropogenic global warming. And please to not mention the Geneva accords to me: they are not the prisoners of war; we are.