It's a laundry evening. And homework. And TV. And all the other little things one does around the home to neaten up after a long weekend and longer week.
And since I'm genetically incapable of doing one task to completion, I end up doing all of those activities in bits and pieces. Which means I don't give my entire attention to any one in particular.
It goes like this...Take the dried items out of the dryer, usually folding as I go. Wander back to the bathroom to put the towels away. Flip through a few channels since The Replacements just ended; watch the opening scenes of Men in Black. Wander to the office and replace the Christmas CD that just finished ripping to MP3 to start the next one. Check email while I'm there. At this point I notice that the dryer door is still open, so I stroll back to the bedroom for the next load. Drop that load next to the washer and begin taking items out of the washer. And just as I'm about to toss the first sweatshirt into the dryer, I notice something still in there. Something with glowing yellow orbs.
I scream and jerk my arm back, getting a face full of wet sweatshirt. As I try to recover, something flashes past my feet, tripping me up. I stumble backward, knocking the postcards and pictures off the shelving behind me. I've dropped the sweatshirt by now, so as I again try to recover, I stumble over it...and a tail.
I end up on my knees facing a hissing Persian who happens to be trapped against the bookshelf by a picture of bluebonnets, a stuffed Astros memento and several CDs -- and whose fur is so fluffed out that a hot air balloon would stick to her.
And, finally I laugh.