After spending most of yesterday afternoon setting up my LOVELY new computer, Nolan decided that last night we should finally play Age of Mythology. Together. Against each other. So maybe I'm not the most mature person ever, and still like computer games involving magical creatures and secret powers and battles for world domination and PWNING your neighbour (breath)...but: I have to say it was one of the best-spent Fridays in awhile. Nothing says romance like typing "i love u but u suck at this game" to your spouse while wiping out their hard-earned army of Nemean Lions, Colossi, and Medusas and torching their Town Center. Of course I whooped Nolan at it...almost. His computer "backed out" (or so he claims) as I was about to deliver the final blow, so the world will never actually know.
Cats have this odd quality of liking their own space, in every possible sense of the phrase. Many times when we can't find Milo, it's because he is watching us look for him from atop his perch on my armoire, crouching between the top and the ceiling.
Sometimes he'll hop up on the shorter wardrobe while we're asleep, and tell us to wake up and feed him by turning on the lamp (it's a touch lamp, so he just licks it. who knows how he discovered that one), which is NOT OUR FAVOURITE GAME.
And then of course he wants to watch me cook/slyly wait for scraps to pounce on, so he's decided that the spice cubby is the best possible place to plot his attack. Obviously the best place is wedged riiiiight between the Crisco spray and Nolan's beer stein.
He most definitely does not like me following him around all day with the camera, so for Milo's sake, let's hope I get a job soon.
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