Last night the Handsomest Man Alive and I ran errands after I got home from work. We found ourselves at Target after 9:00pm buying milk. Of course as anyone who's ever gone into Target to buy one item will tell you -- it doesn't work, you always end up spending $150. We were both so punchy and tired. I saw the HMA buying a box of Junior Mints ('They're on sale! 67 cents a box. I can't pass them up.') and some double chocolate Milano cookies. I tossed an InStyle magazine in my basket, and then I couldn't resist buying a little gift for the cat who was waiting patiently at home for us to return.
I find it absolutely hilarious that dog toys are toys -- balls, squeekies, pull toys -- and cat toys are torture devices. I bought Roxy a stick with feathers and a bell attached. She couldn't be more delighted. I never even cracked the magazine, it was too much fun to watch her with her toy. There are feathers everywhere. I heard the bell in my sleep. And when I got up this morning there she was -- ready to go find out if her new stick was still in the house -- and much to her delight -- it was. She could barely finish her breakfast because her new stick was waiting for her on the living room floor. I can't remember when I felt such passion and delight -- except, of course, watching her roll around on the living room rug with her new stick. It really is the little things that matter most.
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