Every morning for the past week this cat has landed from his three foot high spring directly on the middle of my body, unceremoniously stalked across my body, braced his hind feet against my back for leverage and thumped at the bedroom shade until he is behind it, on the windowsill. It's seven thirty am, mind you. I don't know, except the men begin work on the new lots behind us about eight am, and perhaps Toby is the time master.
Today the band will be photographed, prior to practice. They are to take their uniforms to change into. Walking past Laura's bathroom door, she was struggling into the shirt. This uniform is so complex I'm surprised these kids don't march in the under uniform some day, in protest. Yes, Hudson has matching underwear. Blue shorts and white shirt.
Being the grandmother, I had to say "You're supposed to change at school."
"I know. I just want to see what it looks like."