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How my husband is, as he and I agree, "an optimist."

He left me a lovely note--he often leaves me lovely notes, in which he talked about being later than usual: payday, pick up some groceries, stop at the bank, et cetera, and we will play chess.

Well, by the time he gets here--and it's snowing, roads are hard to traverse, traffic slowed down, all the stops he has to make, then unloads groceries, changes clothes, eats something, relaxes on the computer for a bit, I doubt we will play chess.

We have the usual Rat Patrol for our three girls--two sisters who play well together or apart on the bed and floor, and our old girl, Pickles who loathes "The Kids" and plays on us, the bed, the floor without the others.

And while The Kids are playing, their cage gets cleaned and Pickles is in the living room because Zanona--once shy, now what a pistol, climbed the cage while my husband was cleaning and not paying close enough attention, bit Zanona's leg or foot--what a sound which is saying something as rats are very quiet in terms of vocals unless distressed, and after cage cleaning, there is the bed and bedroom clean up because of all we put out for their play time.

And Bedtime Routine.

My husband means well, but I admit it took me so long to completely let go of any resentment when he gives what are to me "promises" and to him are, geez, what does he call it, "plans," maybe? And plans can change.

Well, promises or plans, I'll be surprised if both of us are alert enough for a game of chess.

We weren't last night. I was too tired from a day of laundry and sundry tasks, and he was exhausted from work and his sundry tasks.

I did set up the board, however, "just in case." I can be an optimist too. :-D

 
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