Brent's birthday approacheth, his 21st birthday cometh. I know what I'm getting him for his birthday, if I can only get around to getting it for him. I want to make this birthday special for him. His last birthday was a bust. None of his friends came for various reasons.

I want to get him this book he's been eyeing and a Bonzai tree. I have no idea how much the tree would cost however. I'm willing to spend up to $75 on his present(s) but anything more is a little beyond my means.

My Aunt and Uncle went off to the family reunion in Nova Scotia for the weekend. I'm so jealous; I really wanted to go. Especially since Uncle John said so cryptically that there likely won't be another. Cripes. Way to make me feel better!

But the house has been left in my cousin Mike's and my capable hands. Or I'd like to think my hands are capable. I have two responsibilities. One, change the chlorine puck in the pool. Two, take care of Big Smokey (who since his diet is not so big anymore.)

Smokey is a rather high maintenance cat. He wants what he wants and he wants it now. Whether he's meowing loudly at you to feed him, give him permission to eat, turn his food dish around, let him out on patrol at night, or even in one bizzare case meowing at you because he wants you to go to the bathroom, he feels that these things must happen immediately.

So last night he was meowing at me with a great level of urgency and seeing that food was not his concern, I let him out on patrol. Aunt Anne-Marie says he is the poster child for 'scaredy cats.' He will only go out on patrol at night and during the day he will only go out with supervision.

So out he goes and seats him self at the pool entrance and has a drink. I see he's happy and I go inside to play the Sims on my PS2. A couple hours go by and Big Smokey slips my mind. Mike comes upstairs and asks, "Where's Smokey?" "Oh..He outside! He wanted out a little while ago."

Mike looks at me for a second and makes a small run to the back door, "It's pouring rain!" Pouring rain? I look outside and so it is. Oops.

Big Smokey comes running in, wet as a drowned rat and looking none too impressed. Mike gave him some food while I toweled the poor thing off while he meowed in depair as if to tell me what a dasterdly fool I am to forget about him. Poor Big Smokey.

Brent wanted to know if I was going to relay this story to my aunt. I think I will try to gloss over that detail. Big Smokey won't tell on me, but mike might bring it up. *sigh*

Nuts.

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