I thought that mice would play, but apparently they put themselves to bed.
This weekend, the hubs has been home as usual. Monkey has continued to be overly attached to him, grimacing if I even offer to hold her. (Sorry hubs, you get to make your breakfast with her in your arms. I tried.) Today, usually fantastic when the ingredients of Sunday and Sunshine combine has been a bit rough since yours truly is still sick. Even worse today than I have been all week, if that's possible. So after our Sunday church meetings, we came home and had lunch. Then I went to bed. This is what I awoke to.
Moose put himself to bed. (What?!? You say. I know. Me too.)
The hubs was holding Monkey who was promptly falling asleep on him. (I know. Whatever.) So he told Moose, go put yourself to bed. He heard him read a book to himself and then not a sound after that. I couldn't help but go peak in. He was tucked in under his sheets, sleeping with his "babies". (a small bean bag dog from JoAnns that a stranger bought him. A nice gesture from an older lady. And his binky, a small yellow blanket with a duck head on it.)
So apparently, I'm not the cat I supposed I was. Or maybe my hubs is really the pied piper.
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