Well, it is a free country…
I came home from work yesterday, exhausted from the stress of a few incidents at work. In a bit of a daze, I opened a can of cat food and fed the kitties. The fat one, Screech, who, at feeding time, acts more like a meowing dog than a cat, was still desperately hungry and simply would not leave me alone. So I pulled out the kitty treats, gave him a few, and retired to the couch.
This morning, before work, Kris was prepping the day’s lunch and snack pack when she noticed a bag of kitty treats on the top floor of the refrigerator. Puzzled, she pulls them out and turns to me.
“Hey, do you know why the kitty treats are in the fridge?” she asks.
Stunned, aware of the fact that I actually remember finding a spot for them in there after feeding Screech yesterday, I try to come up with an explanation. “Oh, I must have done that unintentionally after feeding them yesterday in my zombie-like state” didn’t cover the honest stupidity involved in the thoughts bouncing around my head, so I paused in what probably looked like a deer in headlights moment.
About 5 seconds went by.
“It’s a free country!” I shouted, indignantly.
