For the last couple of hours, I'm enduring the cries of frustration from Sonny. I guess, it's my fault for buying cheap furniture with inadequate instructions and stupid assembly. I guess...
We went to buy a shelf for the living room, and found one that can double as a table for my stuff. Sonny was very helpful in analyzing the available furniture as by it's usefulness to our purpose. He was the muscles that carried shelf to the house. Then, his patience came to an end!
Right away we made a mistake and had to redo the steps that we finished. It happened again and again. I stopped giving advice or comment on Sonny's progress, because then his anger turned to me. I am telling myself that, this is good, he will learn from his mistakes and emotional anguish. And he will.
Sylvie slinked around the room, alarmed by all these new smells and frantic activity. Her bright green eyes searched our faces, and she went sniffing the floor, checking out the parts of the table lying there. She tried to jump on my lap, but, alas, her fat little body is not very agile: she failed, attempted to hold on to my dress with her claws, heard my anguished screams (her claws raked my thigh) and scrambled over my chest and shoulder to the top of the couch. I immediately forgot pain and began to scratch her under the chin to comfort yet another member of my family.
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