Picnic and the poor cat

Joined my “old” friend and her kids for a picnic and frolicking at Metcalf bottoms.

We walked.

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We looked.

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We walked some more.

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We snacked.

The kids wallered in the creek.

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Then the kids slept. (I know the chest clip is low. She was trying to escape and pulled it down)

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This afternoon after a farm trip when  me and the ratbabies were outside, they were suspiciously quiet. So I walked over to see what exactly they were doing.

It was the poor cat. Under a wire basket flower container. Being fed cereal (not exactly against her will….I may add) with grimy little hands.

Poor cat. I made them turn her loose and we talked about “NOT putting kitty under the flowerpot again”.

Even if she’s hungry and doesn’t know it.
Even if it’s easier to pet her like that.
And any other ” even ifs” I could think of.

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Poor cat is a saint.

Kids eat gross stuff

With the time change we overslept and woke up as church was starting. Oops.

Cows needed feeding and groceries needed getting so we divided and conquered. Lynn took Caroline yo the farm and I took my brain-twin Claire to the store.

Oh my. I had forgotten. Taking one kid is SO MUCH EASIER… Almost what you would call pleasant. It helped Starbucks was handing out tiny sample drinks (cinnamon roll frappachino and strawberry milkshake)

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She loved it.

This afternoon I was watching both girls play and Claire was “fixing” her Jeep.

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Maybe a mechanic one day?

Then I get distracted by something, and a few minutes later I hear Claire crunching on something with a little dribble going down her chin (ew). At that moment, I remembered that I had forgotten to get them a snack .

Me: “Claire…what are you eating?”

Claire: (proudly holding it in her hand and showing me) ” Mmmnn. Kitty feed. Want some? ” (trying to poke some in my mouth….she’s fast)

Me: Flailing dramatically. “No! Gross! Shew! Spit it out!”

Claire was greatly amused by my reaction and quickly wiped her drooling mouth on my sleeve while chuckling to herself. Then she turned around and ran off.

Ew. Kids. Gotta love em.

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