I am home.

I know I am. I can hear Tom in the bathroom hawking up something that I would rather not think about while Max is upstairs screaming like a banshee. Yes, I will soon go into the bathroom and clean up another mess and Max will soon come down from upstairs and scream like a banshee right beside my ear. This is the paradise you always read about.

Surely you know I jest. It is great to be home with the cats. I spent hours yesterday being granted the privilege of petting every square inch of their bodies. It was such an honor.

Oh, and I lied. Tom didn’t ralph in the bathroom. I have no idea where he tossed his cookies, but it wasn’t in the bathroom. Don’t worry, I’ll find it in the middle of the night with my bare feet.