They say I’m not funny anymore.
“You’re too normal.”
“Drink more wine so you’ll be funny again, Mom”
“All you do is make out.”
They’ve gotten quite spoiled, having me to themselves since they were born. I guess I’m supposed to be a one-woman-comedy-show, maid, slave, and 1-900-chatline all the time.
Even Alex, the cat, whines at me everytime he sees me. He crawled up the back of my leg today and bit me behind my knee. He fits right in, but I swear if he starts saying “Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, MOM, MOM!” I’m going to cut out his cute little kitten tongue.
We might have to eat him anyway if one of us doesn’t find work soon.