Outpost31: *sits like a vulture on the edge of the couch, watching TV*
Me: *tries to cuddle, fails, tries another tactic, fails, flounces behind Outpost31, securing arms around his hips, grins triumphantly, cannot see television*
Outpost31: Aw. *pets hair*
Me: *winning grin, tries to scootch up to see “Bridezillas”*
Outpost31: *Roar of disbelief at “Bridezillas”*
Me: *ungracefully shoves self up to see television* Oh yeah, she’s a beesh *lies, did not see*
Outpost31: *looks at me curiously, as there has been much slithering behind his back*
Me: *winning smile*
Outpost31: *returns to vulture pose, allowing self to lie on couch and see over his lap*
*Much banter re: “Bridezillas”*
Me: Oh for the love of pants.
Outpost31: *snorfle. Snerk. ACHOO*
Me: *helplessly* HE LOVES YOU. Toby is in love with you. There’s naught to be done.
Me: This is a disaster.
Toby: *wraps around Outpost31’s ankles, happily gnaws on his Achilles tendon*
Outpost31: WTF??!?!!? OW!
Me: *winning smile* HE LOVES YOU!
Outpost31: Grand. Also? Ow.
Me: *chucks Toby across room, winning smile* This is going so well!
Etc. Etc. Etc……..And lather, rinse, repeat re: Toby. But at least I could see the TV.