Pants on the Ground!

Apparently my son is embarking on the phase in his life where he feels he must change his clothes a million times a day. Yesterday he must have changed his pants 12 times. He emptied out his pants drawer and has been "folding" them over and over. Well, at the moment he is burying me in his pants. I had no idea he owned so many pants. Some of them are too big for him, so that explains part of it. He ended up in a pair of pants that was a size too big last night. They were sagging off his hips, so Phillip started singing that "Pants on the Ground" song. I asked Wyatt, "Are you ghetto?" And Wyatt tells me, "No, mama, I'm not ghetto."

Stupid crackhead cat is at it again. He attacked my mom's head last night. My parents came over to drop their car off (ours was in the shop) so that I could get the boys dropped off and get myself to work this morning. She was sitting there in the chair, and Buster comes climbing up all innocent-like. Then he dug is claws into her back and attached himself to her head, biting at her hair and scalp like a half-starved maniacal beast. This afternoon I heard a clunking, then a bang and crash, coming from the kitchen. I rushed over to see, and it was that wretched feline digging in the cabinet again. He had gotten the hotdog buns and was making a run for the baby gate. I caught him and hissed at him. Put the hotdog buns back. Five minutes later, he did it again! Only this time, some plates toppled to the floor. Luckily they were the boys' plastic plates. I moved the hotdog buns to the top shelf. I've been lucky so far...

Buster was just now clawing at the carpet under the kitchen baby gate, so I picked up a pair of Wyatt's pants that I happen to be buried in, and chunked them at the cat. It is so much fun watching those vertical jumps. Now he is underneath the coat rack trying to do God knows what. Sigh. Never a dull moment. Now to heat up a frozen pizza which Buster will enjoy stealing a piece of and eating it under the kitchen table.