Saturday, March 5, 2016

Pigeonless Insomnia and Consumers of Foot

Thank God for the First Friday of each week and the attendant ceremonies to mark its arrival. My co-workers, except for the Operations Manager AKA the “pigeon”, joined me for a fun recap of the week’s antics at work. The bar maid brought over the pigeon mascot which we ordered a drink for and then texted to the absent pigeon. It was a very fun time. Buddy welcomed me home with a long dissertation on the depredations of the neighborhood birds which he had been trying to protect the house from. He really dislikes the bird feeder on the deck. The birds have figured out he poses no discernable threat.
The Mascot Enjoying his Libation at First Friday
While dozing off and on at Couch Potato Position #1 I received a FaceTime call from my favorite Californians. While Wingman and my daughter tried to catch me up on their week of Curbside adventures my granddaughter dominated the conversation. She’s become quite the screecher. She also demonstrated a new talent. She grabs one of her feet and deposits it in her mouth. While I’m doubtful as to the utility of this act she seemed fully devoted to pursuing it. It could not have been any more charming, but that’s how she rolls.

The Foot Sucker
The off and on dozing had the predictable effect of insomnia when my body was trying to tell me it was time to hit the sack. I tossed and turned until well after 2am trying to convince my mind it was time to shut down (insert smirking comment from Cantankerous Friend here). I even manufactured noises to investigate, waking up a soundly sleeping Buddy who I’d convinced myself was on another of his night terror adventures in the basement. He seemed a little put out at the interruption. Of course despite the late hour of finally achieving sleep the Army training once again kicked in and I was wide awake at 6am. I think part of the insomnia was the excitement at spending some time today with my Favorite Son who’ scheduled to show up this afternoon. That being said, I’m going to stop writing so I can go out and buy the snacks I know he likes.




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