Husband with a Death Wish

After I got home this afternoon, I put some sausage in a big plastic bowl of hot water to thaw. Then I covered the bowl with a lid. It was snapped on almost all the way. Good enough. Well enough to keep a cat out, anyway. Well, Phillip walks up and watches what I'm doing.

Phillip: The lid's not even on all the way!

Me: It's tight enough. The cat won't get in.

Phillip: You must not know our cat. (Proceeds to

completely seal the lid on the bowl.) Our cat is really smart.

Me: Are you saying I'm not as smart as the cat?

Phillip: Yes.

After some dirty looks and a few minutes later...

Phillip: I missed you today.

Me: You could actually miss someone who is dumber

than a cat?

Phillip: You don't have to be smart for me to miss you.

This is the part where I pause and get the blank stare on my face as I envision myself performing a few acts of violence. Phillip giggles. Good thing he can't see into my mind's eye.

Let us rewind a bit. Have you ever planned something for dinner, just so you could eat one tiny thing in particular? For instance, made spaghetti because you were in the mood for garlic bread or something like that? Well, I bought this new jelly at the store, and it is so good! I've only had a small taste on a spoon. I splurged and bought that "Simply Fruit" kind by Smuckers. It's the blueberry variety. Yum. I asked Phillip what he wanted for dinner, and he said "make me something I can eat 'this' on" (he was holding up the jelly). So, we are having breakfast for dinner so that we can eat English muffins with the jelly (note the sausage thawing--mmm...eggs, sausage, and English muffins.) Are we weird? Wait. Don't answer that.

Feline update: Buster still can't reach the bread, though he spends a lot of time opening and closing the cabinet door. I moved the bread to the top shelf. Muahahahaha! He got his revenge, though. This morning, as I was attempting to get ready for work, the cat writhed and wretched in the floor, clawing at my legs and feet. He unleashed his kitty fangs into the back of my heel, right below my ankle, and I cried out in anguish and kicked my leg away, out of instinct. In the process, slicing my heel open in two spots. There are two slashes where the kitty fangs were. Cat was still attached when I kicked my foot out. Can you believe it? He actually broke the skin and left two razor-like cuts. It hurt most of the morning as my shoe rubbed against it.

Phillip has some sort of psychic power over Buster. All he has to do is give him the 'evil eye', and Buster runs off in a fit of terror. No joke. Where can I learn that?