The Cat has decided that he shall deign to sleep in the bedroom tonight with the rest of us. 

I'm suspicious of his decision, naturally.  Why would he decide that it is okay for him to sleep in here now?  The baby has been out of our room for nearly an entire year.  Plus he slept in here when the baby was in here with us.  I don't remember when he decided to sleep downstairs, but he's been doing it for awhile.  Why come back up here now?

Perhaps it is because he has been at the kennel since Friday.  We usually leave him at the house when we go out of town for the weekend, but I really didn't want to come home to a kitchen floor covered in cat pee.  So to the kennel with the dogs he went.  Maybe he missed us.  He did let CJ pet him for a few minutes tonight.  Maybe he realized how good he has it.  Maybe he is finally realizing his place in the pecking order around here.

Maybe it's getting chilly downstairs at night, and he'd rather be up here wedged between me and the Mister because it's warmer.  This is actually the most likely reason.

But hey, whatever it takes.  At least now I won't have to listen to him scattle across the floor chasing stray dust bunnies.

Of course, this means he will likely pee in the bathtub at some point tonight.  Luckily for me, the Mister is the only person who uses the shower in the master bathroom.  I find the lighting in there to be inadequate and can't wake up in the mornings if I am showering in the dark.  So he can scrub the tub, not me.

I guess I should be glad the cat pees in the tub in the absence of a litterbox in the bathroom, instead of on the floor.  Either way it's yucky, but one can't accidentally step in cat pee in the shower.  You know it's there going into it.

Sigh.  Stupid cat.  Douchebaggery abounds in him.

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No, not that nip.  Get your mind out of the gutter, you pervert.

No, the nip.  The first nip in the air that signals the approaching of fall and cooler weather.  I felt it this morning.  I walked outside to head to work, and it was there.  It was almost palpable.  The nip.  That little bite.  The not damp but almost, not quite cool but certainly not warm, crisp feeling of autumn.  And while I am aware that we are still battling summer and that it is currently over 90 degrees on my fair Peachtree Street, I could not deny that I felt the nip in the air this morning.

The nip is a signal that many wonderful things are coming soon.

Wonderful things such as fall foliage.  Crunching leaves as we walk.  Cozy sweaters and crockpots full of chili.  Chilly breezes that make you snuggle down into your jacket.  Scarves.  Boots.  Hoodies.  Watching a movie with the Mister under a blanket.  Football season. Halloween and Halloween costumes.  My mom's birthday.  My birthday.  Shopping for Christmas gifts.  Thanksgiving dinner.  Time with family and friends.  Sharing our blessings with those in need.  Remembering the reason for the Christmas season.

But most importantly, football season.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen.  It's the most wonderful time of the year, and it starts tomorrow.  Every Saturday (and a lot of Thursdays) from now until mid-January will be spent in front of at least one television in our house.  We have both of the big screens set up in such a way that if you sit in the big chair in the living room, you can see both of them.  The game of secondary importance plays on the downstairs TV if there are two games we want to watch at the same time.  This is also where having UVerse comes in handy:  sports multi-view.

But all games are secondary to any game played by our beloved Auburn Tigers.  Say what you will about them, but we are fiercely devoted Auburn fans.  They have one rough year, and everyone counts them out.  I say look out.  Remember what Nick Saban's first year looked like with Alabama ::cough:: 7-6 ::cough::.  Two short years later, they have a national championship team.  Gene Chizik did better his first year than Nick Saban did.

I love college football like any redblooded Southerner does, but for the Mister, college football is a religion.  His entire week is colored by Auburn's performance each Saturday.  When they play well and win, all is right at the House of Burks.  But if they win sloppy, or lose, there is much wailing and gnashing of teeth.  The Mister is such a douchebag when Auburn loses that I typically lock myself in our bedroom with a book and my computer for the rest of the weekend.  He is surly and mopey, and absolutely nothing will get the burr out of his shorts.    So as much as I want Auburn to win football games because I am a die-hard Auburn fan, I want them to win football games so that my husband is at least partially bearable for four months.

We are looking forward to going to a few Auburn games this year now that CJ is ambulatory and can do more than sit there like a cute and cuddly lump, as he was last year.  I really think he is going to enjoy the college football experience and all the people and activities.  We already have his jersey ready to go.

That's his game face.

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