If Lazy Could Get Lazy

I think I may have out lazied lazy.

I don't really have substantiated proof but I'm thinking I get the gold medal hands down.

My gorgeous cousin and her friend came over today to go swimming while I was sleeping - Bob left them a key so they could get in and out of the house which of course, I'm fine with. It's my baby cousin after all (she's 23).

Uh, yeah.

I get up later and we sit in my living room.

Where one of my cats has made a bed out of her own fur.

Nice.

My favourite part was when the four year old picked up a clump of black and white fur and handed it to her mom.

Sweet.

Guess I need to take a closer look around the place before people come over. Since I never really go in the living room unless people come I just assume it's clean.

Okay, I guess I should say there are no books, cups, dirty plates, socks, papers, etc all over the place.

Nope.

Spotless.

Except for the fact that my black and white long haired kitty lives on the carpet and I haven't plugged in the vacuum for longer than I'm about to admit.

Odd.

There's only a small place in my brain that is embarrassed by this.

I keep thinking it could have been worse which has me thinking I'm forgetting about something.

That might be a problem.

In the house.

I'll let you know when it comes to me.

OH! OH!

This isn't it but might be related (must clean out fridge) - my hubby came home and was starving, we're standing in the kitchen and I see him putting ketchup on a hot dog that was obviously cooked on the BBQ.

Only, it's been a week since we had a BBQ.

Me: 'Bob, I don't think you should eat that, it's been in the fridge for a week.'

Bob: 'It's cooked.'

Gorgeous Cousin didn't even bat an eyelash. I'm thinking she's used to eating like that at home.

So far, he's survived and it's been 6 hours. I envy those peeps with iron guts.