I could no longer tolerate the sight of Mr. Crazy's six-months-uncut hair. I HAD to put my foot down, and cut it, but how to do this without making him hate me? Then I realized: tell him he has fleas! Yes, it's a lie, but a perfect one. So I very solemnly told him, "Honey, I need to give you a haircut, I found fleas on your pillow." Initially he protested vehemently but when I started raking his hair off with the clippers he calmed down, amazingly, and by the time it was over he thanked me. This from the kid who used to kick me in the stomach when I gave him a haircut. He confessed it had been "itching his ears" but he was too afraid to tell me. LOL. What a cutie.

I cleaned the kitchen today, scrubbed the sink with bleach, got all the bottles of juice put away in the cabinets, which was no small task. I tried making chicken for Mr. Crazy but he turned his nose up at it. Wild Girl and Beauty Girl ate it instead. Also I made some cookies bars.

I went downstairs to lock the basement door and found a foreign invader, a yellow tabby. It scared me half to death-- I screamed and ran up the stairs. Hopefully the black cat will get rid of him soon enough.