Mr. Bunny Thanks You...
"Thanks for saving my life. I was so scared, and I hid under your refrigerator. I know you were tired and cranky. Best Wishes, Mr. Rabbit"
This morning was eventful to say the least. Alas, it is only 1 p.m. and this day feels as though it must be ready to come to a close. I gave a presentation at one of my larger districts- which had me up all night in preparation. I have given this presentation nearly 50 times now and yet this one meant a lot to me. I wanted to win this adoption- I need to win this adoption. Well, if you don't know what I do, I am a lobbyist for a publishing company. This is a fancy way of saying I schlep heavy books, liaise with super smarty people, and spend my days perusing books. Picture a sexy librarian sans glasses and significantly more sweaty (I said the books were heavy- didn't I??). When my boss asked me what time I woke up today, I couldn't even remember if I had gone to sleep. I had- hadn't I? Surely I didn't want to tell her that I didn't sleep a wink- it makes me sound like I frequent after-hours clubs. In truth, the evening was far less exciting and didn't involve glow sticks. I am assuming I fell asleep in the center of my "work circle"- any teacher knows this is the somewhat organized pile you find yourself surrounded by. You- Center. Stuff- All around. At 3:45 a.m. I heard the shriek. I know the shriek. It's awful and painful and I've heard it before. It's the sound of a bunny in pain. I heard my 4 a$$hole cats running amok downstairs trying to catch the bunny. (Side Story- we have a cat flap and my cats like to bring home their take-out). Sometimes we are able to save the critters the 4 bring home, and sometimes, sadly, we aren't. I hauled my sleepy butt down the stairs to see the cutest yet hugest bunny hopping through my kitchen... into the family room... behind the t.v. and.... 4 cats quickly following. I scream and call out for Lloyd because this is surely a two-man task. He HATES this part. Lloyd does not take too kindly to being woken up in the dead of night. He mutters some expletives and storms down the stairs. He is cranky, and I can'ty blame him. He is mad at me because, in moments like these, they are my cats causing him to lose sleep. Naturally, when they want to lick fingers and purr affectionately, they are his cats. I gather cats and toss them into closets and bedrooms so we can save this bunny. How he ended up under our refrigerator and un-reachable is beyond me. My husband is now lying on the kitchen floor, which, by the by, I forgot to sweep (sorry, babe!). It doesn't take long before he starts to drift back to sleep... right there.... on that unswept floor. So did we save the bunny? Why, yes, yes we did. Lloyd dutifully and compassionately cradled that bunny in his arms and led him to the field near our house. I have to admit... there was something so cute about my irritated husband walking in his underpants at 4 a.m. to save this bunny. But that's just the kinda' guy that he is.
When I returned home from work today, there was a note on my step addressed to "Nice Man at 528". I emailed the contents of that note to my husband since I thought he would appreciate the sentiments. The note read:
"Thanks for saving my life. I was so scared, and I hid under your refrigerator. I know you were tired and cranky. Best Wishes, Mr. Rabbit"
His response? "...Tell him my pleasure but he owes me two hours sleep"
This morning was eventful to say the least. Alas, it is only 1 p.m. and this day feels as though it must be ready to come to a close. I gave a presentation at one of my larger districts- which had me up all night in preparation. I have given this presentation nearly 50 times now and yet this one meant a lot to me. I wanted to win this adoption- I need to win this adoption. Well, if you don't know what I do, I am a lobbyist for a publishing company. This is a fancy way of saying I schlep heavy books, liaise with super smarty people, and spend my days perusing books. Picture a sexy librarian sans glasses and significantly more sweaty (I said the books were heavy- didn't I??). When my boss asked me what time I woke up today, I couldn't even remember if I had gone to sleep. I had- hadn't I? Surely I didn't want to tell her that I didn't sleep a wink- it makes me sound like I frequent after-hours clubs. In truth, the evening was far less exciting and didn't involve glow sticks. I am assuming I fell asleep in the center of my "work circle"- any teacher knows this is the somewhat organized pile you find yourself surrounded by. You- Center. Stuff- All around. At 3:45 a.m. I heard the shriek. I know the shriek. It's awful and painful and I've heard it before. It's the sound of a bunny in pain. I heard my 4 a$$hole cats running amok downstairs trying to catch the bunny. (Side Story- we have a cat flap and my cats like to bring home their take-out). Sometimes we are able to save the critters the 4 bring home, and sometimes, sadly, we aren't. I hauled my sleepy butt down the stairs to see the cutest yet hugest bunny hopping through my kitchen... into the family room... behind the t.v. and.... 4 cats quickly following. I scream and call out for Lloyd because this is surely a two-man task. He HATES this part. Lloyd does not take too kindly to being woken up in the dead of night. He mutters some expletives and storms down the stairs. He is cranky, and I can'ty blame him. He is mad at me because, in moments like these, they are my cats causing him to lose sleep. Naturally, when they want to lick fingers and purr affectionately, they are his cats. I gather cats and toss them into closets and bedrooms so we can save this bunny. How he ended up under our refrigerator and un-reachable is beyond me. My husband is now lying on the kitchen floor, which, by the by, I forgot to sweep (sorry, babe!). It doesn't take long before he starts to drift back to sleep... right there.... on that unswept floor. So did we save the bunny? Why, yes, yes we did. Lloyd dutifully and compassionately cradled that bunny in his arms and led him to the field near our house. I have to admit... there was something so cute about my irritated husband walking in his underpants at 4 a.m. to save this bunny. But that's just the kinda' guy that he is.
When I returned home from work today, there was a note on my step addressed to "Nice Man at 528". I emailed the contents of that note to my husband since I thought he would appreciate the sentiments. The note read:
"Thanks for saving my life. I was so scared, and I hid under your refrigerator. I know you were tired and cranky. Best Wishes, Mr. Rabbit"
His response? "...Tell him my pleasure but he owes me two hours sleep"
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