Good Friday

So it's Good Friday night and, by rare chance, I have the house to myself. That is if you don't count the two female cats and the former male bunny that are already jostling for attention. I don't mind, really.

In a little while, the bunny and I will start on the jello shots and watch a replay of the Masters second round (the bunny is a big Tiger Woods fan). The girls bide their time - they're not into golf - and soon Mr. Bun starts to get maudlin, waxing nostalgic for his lost bunnyhood. "They didn't leave anything! Not even two little tufts of fur." The girls don't help, of course, dancing around going "You can't hump me! You can't hump me!" He tries to chase them but his heart's not in it.

Then it's movie time. I thought seriously about trying to smuggle them all into a late showing of "Grindhouse" but I decided it would be better to stay home and watch "Slither" instead. While the bunny snores on the couch, the girls each do their best kitty lap dance to see who gets the prime seat.

Which, actually, is more action than I usually get so maybe it really is Good Friday.

Happy Easter.