Cats got my tongue

Sorry, I’ve tried. I really have. I just can’t face the topic of food today. I’ve been dealing with a couple of sick kittens (pictured above a couple of months ago in an adorably healthy state). While I am perfectly capable of writing between rounds of litter box cleaning, I find the very thought of food off putting at the moment.

I’m also miffed. Various studies have found smell to be the strongest memory trigger, and I’m living proof. Thanks to my poorly pets, I’ve been subjected to a two-day flashback of every bout of intestinal flu my mother ever nursed me through. Long-buried memories have rushed to the surface like a zit on prom night. It’s ironic, and more than a little annoying, to recall in vivid detail unpleasant childhood illnesses while I struggle to ask Andrew to pass me that…thing. You know… the long, thin…pointy…thing.

I’ll give him credit. He works with what I give him. Pen? Knife? Letter opener?

Nope. Corkscrew.

In light of recent events, I’m going to try to improve my ephemeral vocabulary with scent therapy. I seem to respond well to smells. Let’s start with the word “corkscrew”. Now if I can only find where I put the…tall, green thing, with the… thing in the top…