I told the half dozen cats that are holed

I told the half dozen cats that are holed up under my house that I tolerated them to stay there just in case I had to move in with them once my house remembers who she is. That day

was coming too soon. I knew once the house realised who she was, she'd realise who I was in short order. She might still love me, she might stick a lamp up my ass. Either way, I

needed to make a quick trip to the store for some good quality lube.

I put the tub of beef dripping on the kitchen table along with a red steel jimmy, silver duck tape, a pack of yellow polyester cotton pillow cases, a jar of nutella and

a case of adult diapers. Hmm...what was I forgetting? Oh, right! I'd need something to soak up the beef dripping. I rummaged around under the bed and found some

used Odor Eaters (TM). These soaked up the beef drippings beautifully, but when my dog later ate them, he went into convulsions. I put on my adult diapers and paraded around the

nursery, getting in touch with my inner baby, compartmentalizing the fact that I still have my taxes to do& instead sucking on my paci. I felt like bawling. I was thirsty! "Momma!"

I wailed. Big, fat tears rolled down my cheeks, splashing onto the foam play-mat beneath me. My pacifier slipped from my mouth and bounced away, which made me wail harder.

I could hear my mother enter my room with a worried look on her face. "Oh my god, baby! What's wrong with you this time?" She asked, before running up to me and carrying me.