This morning, after lollygagging a bit on the ‘net and doing some homework, I showered in prep for my massage appointment. I stood in front of the mirror, applying make-up. Oz came wandering in, and did his meer cat impersonation, trying to see up on the counter. I scatted him away.
Moments later I heard, from the bedroom, “plump. Scatter! ching-clank. Foosh. Clunk.” I sighed, and went in to investigate. Oz was up on my dresser, scattering my papers and jewelry and perfume about. “Get down, asshole!” I yelled. He jumped down and ran back into the bathroom, and I started picking up all the stuff he knocked off the dresser.
Then I heard, from the game room, “Clatter. shish. shish-shish-shish. Clok-CLATTER!”
Oh no he didn’t…
I went back into the bathroom, and checked my make-up bag. Sure enough, no blush brush. I looked out the door, and Oz was batting it around under the pool table.
Do you see what he did? DO YOU SEE WHAT HE FREAKIN’ DID?!? He distracted me. So he could steal the blush brush. He flippin’ redirected my attention so he could acquire the target.
Oz is going to kill us all in our sleep. I swear. If I suddenly stop posting, you’ll know why.
