It really is available?

Yesterday when I was on the phone with Walt, who happens to be out of town for work, I told him that I started my blog. I had mentioned to him last week that I was going to do it and he thought it was a great idea. He knows I like to write and knows how damn funny I can be and knowing that he was pretty much going to be the brunt of my jokes, he was still on board.

While on the phone, I proceeded to tell Walt that next time he goes out of town, he needs to sit down with the cats and explain to them in their language that he was indeed not going to be home which meant, NO ONE would be getting up at 5:00 am to feed them.

We have 3 cats in our home. Bob is the old guy (15 1/2), Henry is the dainty one (4 1/2) and Jack, is part dog and will be 3 on Christmas. During the week Walt feeds the cats. Most mornings, he sets his alarm anywhere from 5 am to 6am to get up and run (shocker). And every morning, 3 cats are on the bed, walking all over in anticipation of their early riser breakfast. If Walt's alarm is not set, the cats are still on the bed walking around, meowing in our faces or knocking stuff off of the nightstands. Bob will walk over to me and literally climb on my back and lay down and purr. Henry will begin, on the floor, at one side of the bed and proceed to gallop across the bed onto the floor on the other side. Henry will do this until you get up. Jack, well, he will jump on a dresser or a night stand will knock things off in order for one to get up. Every morning...unless Walt sets the alarm and beats the cats to the punch. And every morning when he does not set his alarm and the circus act begins, I swing my foot over, kick Walt and say "feed the cats". I sometimes wonder if this blog should be about my cats for sometimes they are just as funny as Walt.

So yesterday as I lay in bed, so comfy to have it all to myself (usually when Walt is out of town at least one kid crawls in without fail), I could feel movement on the bed. "Are you kidding me? It is 5am!" And so it began all the while I am thinking "Walt why do you have to run so fricking early in the morning? Look at what you have done to these cats. They are now Pavlov's dogs."

So in my tired ass way, I feed the cats at 5:30 am, grab a cup of coffee and begin my journey as a running widow.

Now back to the phone call... So after I rant to Walt about the cat escapade, I tell him my blog has been born.

Walt: "Good for you. I can't wait to read it. What did you end up naming it?"

Leslie: "The Running Widow." I was thinking to myself that the name "I have to have a glass of wine to get through the rest of the day" might be too long.

Walt: "Wow, that name was still available? I am surprised."

Leslie: Pause...pause...pause..."Yes Walt, I am the only one crazy enough to write about her husband's running."