Will that be one hump or two?

Recently, while driving through the Ozarks in Arkansas, we saw a house with camels in the front yard (not just one camel...but two).  What the....?  This was not a petting zoo, or a camel farm, or a sanctuary ---just someone's fenced in front yard, with a couple of camels strolling around.  We rode camels in Egypt and Morocco----but that makes sense.  You know....sand, desert, pyramids....camels belong there don't they. ----But Camels + Ozark Mountains = My what strange lives we lead up here yonder in the mountains where no one can really monitor what we are up to.  .....And what are they up to? What are they doing with those camels?  Are they pets?  Modes of Ozark transportation?  Food????  Leftover camels from the Civil War?  Well, I wanted to stop and go up to their door and ask them.  But Dallas just kept driving. Then he looked at me and said (with a redneck southern drawl) " Yer not in Oz anymore Dorothy" 

and just in case you thought I was kidding.....

The New Addiction

 In this world......Don't we have enough items paired with chocolate?  There's chocolate covered fruit, pretzels, cookies, peanut butter, donuts, coffee beans, nuts of all kinds, even chocolate covered insects.  But no, apparently there are not enough food items coated with chocolate.  They had to think of yet one more.   Salted Caramel.  

Mine came in the mail today.  A gift from my special cousin Jeannie.  And there were just a dozen.  ....Beautiful little squares of caramel, covered in a deep dark chocolate.  And then sprinkled with sea salt.  I decided to eat one-a-day (like the vitamin).  So I tried my first one tonight.  Even though it was small, I ate it in 5 delicate little-mini-bites and savored it as long as I could.  The combination of the creamy caramel, rich dark chocolate, and saltiness is something I have never quite tasted before.  I have renamed this treat what it should be called---CRACK. 

Then Dallas came in and wondered what was in the big box. I showed him my 12 small caramels.  (There was a big shipping box because they packed the tiny package of caramels in with a huge gel coolant pack so they wouldn't spoil----must be all that fresh cream and butter!)  Because I am so nice (plus he was staring at me while I was finishing off the last bit of mine), I offered him one of my little precious chunks of crack.  He accepted my offer (dammit!)  and popped the entire thing in his mouth. 

WHAT THE HELL!  You don't shove the whole thing in your mouth at once!  Are you crazy!!??......these have to be savored!  They have to be enjoyed slowly!  These are not ROLOs or Milk Duds for crying out loud!

Well, maybe now---after being chastised---he will never accept an offer of caramel crack again....One can only hope. (and now I really do resemble a crack addict.....I have hidden my drug-of-choice-caramels in the butter compartment of the refridgerator.  I am no longer sharing my stash.)

Floss, you may have won this time....but I will return

My dentist has told me that I have tight teeth.  Apparently the spaces between my teeth are unusually small.  Doesn't seem like such a big deal until you get something stuck between them. Then it becomes an all-night ordeal; one that requires ingenuity, strength and patience.  

Just last night I had a piece of a peanut caught between my top front teeth.  So I got out my slick waxed dental floss to work it out. After about 5 minutes of carefully sawing the floss back and forth between my teeth, I still had not extracted the peanut.  So I decided to just pull the floss out and hope that the nut popped out with it.  But I found that I couldn't do that. Because now the dental floss was stuck. It wouldn't even move anymore--not at all.  It was totally frayed and locked in place, all jammed up in there with that stupid nut.  So now I have a nut in between my top front teeth along with 2 long white strings of floss dangling out of my mouth laying across my lip and hanging down my chin.

After 15 more minutes of futile, maddening tugging at the floss which is now a tangled mess crammed up between my 2 teeth, I rummaged through the bathroom cabinet hoping to find some tool or mini crowbar to use to work on my problem.  Oh yay!  I found some really slick, super slippery glide floss, which states clearly on the package that it "easily gets to 100% of hard to reach places for an ultimate clean without fraying, catching, or sticking."  Great!  Sounds like I found the solution.  So I tear off a good long strand of the silky-feeling blue dental floss, wrap it tightly around my fingers, and get to work.  

After several minutes of working the floss into the spot, I begin gently pulling at it so that I can work it  back out, skillfully pulling on the smooth blue floss, which at this point is nearly amputating the tips of my fingers.  But I keep at it as I am anxious to set the both the peanut and the dangling, mangled white floss free.  At this point I begin wondering if anyone has ever had an accidental tooth extraction with floss, as it now feels like I am on the verge of pulling my tooth out.  On about the 5th gentle tug the slippery smooth, easily-gets-into-100%-of-hard-to-reach-places  blue floss breaks. That's right.  Apparently it can get into 100% of the hard to reach spots,  but not always out of them.  And now, it too is stuck between my teeth and won't budge.

So ---- I take a good look at myself.   I am standing in front of the mirror, with 2 long strands of white floss, and now 2 additional very long lengths of blue floss hanging out my mouth, down my chin, and continuing to dangle down about shoulder length.  Oh--and one very annoying peanut poking out near my gumline.  And the peanut is now jammed further up into my gums so that it feels much larger and is even more uncomfortable.  

With no solution in sight and my precious beauty sleep ticking away, as it is now close to midnight,  I get out a pair of scissors.  I cut the 2 white and 2 blue strings of floss that are hanging out of my mouth.  I trimmed them as close as I could to my teeth.  I was out of ideas.  And patience.

 As I headed off to bed, I was certain that there would be a lot less smiling going on in those therapy sessions tomorrow.

....and all I could hope for is that the following day my patients would not notice my new tooth accessories.  (although blue and white are my colors)

Life of Pie

Recent dinner conversation--

As we are eating VERY large portions of pie....

My Oh-So-Skinny-Friend:  Wow!  These slices are huge!  But no problem for me.  You know, the doctor told me I have a very fast metabolism.  

Not-So-Skinny-Me:  Really?  You know, I too have a very fast metabolism........

.....................but apparently I can very easily outrun it.  

I am like a generous Pirate.....I share my booty.

Why must nearly every day of my life be a comedy of errors?  And why must they be errors involving lingerie?  

I ask myself these deep questions often.  ....too often.  

So today I remind myself one more time----Please, Tanya....please, please, PLEASE----

ALWAYS check your skirt.  Check your skirt after you go to the restroom.  Check to make sure it did not somehow get tucked up into the waistband.  Check it well.  Check it twice.  Three times even.  But please CHECK IT.

Because---if you don't--- you will surely walk through the office, passing everyone (even a few patients), then walk out the door,  drive down to the gas station, parade through the gas station shop.....long before you suddenly realize that you feel a breeze up your backside.  ...and you will then say loudly "What the.....Dammit Tanya!!"  ....so loudly that everyone in the store looks over at you just in time to see you reaching behind, clutching and grabbing at your backside and yanking your skirt down.

Oh wait.... it gets a bit better!  Fortunately I did have stockings on.  Unfortunately ...that was it.  

Just stockings.  .....very very sheer stockings.

Dammit Tanya!

Just another day in the life of me.....and my lingerie (and lack thereof).  

Hit me up Laquisha

I have had my phone for 6 months. But I am still getting frequent texts and voicemail messages for the former owner of my number. Apparently my phone number previously belonged to Laquisha. Seriously. Laquisha.

Then my brother recommended I download an app. --some kind of call or text blocker.  And while that is a great idea... who would take all of Laquisha's messages for her? 

So  I now have a new voice mail recording on my phone:

Hi. I know you are probably calling for Laquisha. As you may have guessed, I am not her. However, if you would like to leave a message I will write it down. I am collecting all of her messages as I may run into her one day. So please feel free to tell me whatever you would like to tell Laquisha. I am a therapist, so confidentiality is of course of the utmost importance. In fact, if you would like to leave some really personal information on my voicemail, feel free. If you require therapy services, maybe we can work out an arrangement. But I am not cheap. Well, I was once accused of being cheap, but that is in my past. Oh, and I am writing a book. So you may be in it. Don’t worry, all names will be changed to protect anonymity. (…except for those who have crossed me. I will leave their names in the book.) So just leave me your message for Laquisha and I will do my best to locate her and pass it on.

P.S. If you happen to see Laquisha tell her that Veronique called and wants her hair weave back. It sounded rather urgent.

mmmmm.....BACON.

At the end of a therapy session....

Patient X:  (with VERY heavy accent/Southern drawl) Ya know....you really are jest like a bacon.

Me:  (what????)   I am?   Well......thank you.    I happen to think bacon is great. 

Patient X:  A bacon is great.   Yur personality is just like a bacon......from thuh naaht sky above us. 

Me:  (has he stopped taking his meds???  oh crap....maybe he is having delusions right  now!)  

Me: (in my best calming therapist voice)  Sooooo.....tell me about the bacon from the sky.   

Patient X:  I am trying to tell you! It's like this.....you draw othahs in tuh-ward you.......like a bacon.  

Me:  Okaaaay.... Tell me a bit more about the bacon.

Patient X:  I am jest usin a figger of speech!!  ....comparin' you to a bacon--a bacon of light!

Me:  Bacon of light?  Oh...wait.....you mean beacon of light!  

Patient X:  That is what Ah said!  A bacon of light!

Me:  Well--- thank you.  That is a very nice thing to say.  And I like beacons almost as much as I like bacon.  So, thank you, thank you very much.

Bacon of Light....we really do exist.

(Maybe if it was a WET paper bag)

There are some things I am very good at doing, and others that I accomplish in just a so-so manner.  Then are the things that I am horrible at doing.  And then, just below that are those things that I cannot do at all....that are completely foreign to me.   Finding my way around the world fits into that category. I am always getting lost. I have absolutely no sense of direction.   I even get lost going to places I have been to hundreds of times, because I will miss my turn, or will be in the wrong lane and unable to turn, or will get myself all turned around somehow begin driving in the completely wrong direction.  Now, the GPS has helped a great deal.  But there are times when I do not have the GPS, or don't turn it on (because in my delusional mind I think I actually know how to get someplace).  So in any given week, I find myself, at least once or twice, driving around in a haze, wondering......Where the hell am I?  Sometimes I just keep driving until I find something familiar, sometimes I call someone ---using the phone-a-friend option.  (Dallas is usually the one to get the "Hi....I'm lost again." call). 

Part of my problem is that I tend to daydream.  Part of my problem is that I am easily distracted.  But most of my problem is that I just have no concept of spacial relations in this world.  For example, I often get lost driving around my own town.  Now it is true that I have only lived in this town, this state, and even this country for not quite 2 years.  But I can't use that as an excuse.  The same thing happens to me anywhere.  And everywhere.  All the time.  Just this week I got lost 3 times.  Made a wrong turn here and there and Voila'!  I am suddenly lost.  I have been known to use my GPS to find my way back home when I am just a few miles away.  Sad and pathetic....and true.  I am famous for turning right when I should go left, or going straight when I should be stopping (i.e. I drive right past my destination).   I pretty much have no idea where I am in relation to other things in this world.  I not only get lost when driving.....I also get disoriented in large buildings or wide open spaces....such as when walking around my own neighborhood.   Parking garages are another story....I think you probably get the picture by now.

I just recalled something my mother used to say to me when I was a kid..."Tanya, you couldn't find your way out of a paper bag."  I think she may have been onto something.

Me:  I think we are going the wrong way.  Maybe we should have turned left instead of right back there.  Should we drive back and find out?  Or just keep going?  This looks like a nice scenic route.

Ray:  I thought you said WalMart is just down the road, less than 10 minutes away.  (then quietly to himself)....I knew I should have driven.

Me: I think I was just driving this way because this is how I drive to work.  I'm going to take this road here and cut over to where we should be.

Me: (15 minutes later).... Um,  I think this road doesn't cut over.  Well, if I just keep going we will eventually get there.  It's right around here, I know it is.

Ray:  This is the third time you have gotten us lost this weekend.  How long have you lived here?

Me:  Whatever.

*****************************************************************************

Me:  Where do you want to eat lunch?

Gary: Arby's.  Is there one around here, cuz I am STARVING!! 

Me:  Yep.  Just down the street.

Gary:  Great! Cuz I get really grouchy when I am hungry....and I am way past that point now.

Gary (20 mins later sounding irritated):  Are we almost there?  I thought you said it was close!

Me:  Oh look, here it is......(pulls into Arby's)

Gary:  What the hell.....this one is closed down!  Can we just get something to eat please! (sounding angry now)

Me:  Oh, sorry....I think I know where another one is......

Gary: (15 mins later, yelling a bit)....Do you even know where you are going?  It feels like we are driving in circles.

Me:  No we aren't! We are almost there!

Me (thinking):   (Crap, where the hell are we?! I could swear I've seen that church 3 times now......)

Gary:  Admit it.  You are lost.

Me:  Whatever.

*****************************************************************************

Me:  I come to this mall every day at lunch time and I love this mall!  It is huge!  AND it has 2 really big food courts.  Can you believe it?  TWO!

Dallas:  Really?  That's different.

Me:  I know!

(after 10 mins of walking)

Me:  Look--that's the first food court.  There are so many food options there.  But let's wait til we see the second one before deciding where to eat  lunch.

Dallas: OK

Me: (after 15 more minutes of walking):  Here it is (points proudly)....the second food court!

Dallas:  (stares at me blankly)  Are you serious?

Me:  Yeah.  Why?...What?

Dallas:  This mall is laid out in a big circle....this food court is in the middle of the circle.  It is the same one we passed earlier.....we were just on the other side of the circle.

Me:  Oh.   Whatever.

*****************************************************************************

So here I my suggestions, based on my many years of experience, to those of you who may also be directionally challenged:

1.  If you have a GPS --use it!  No matter how short the distance or how easy you think it will be to get there....use it!

2.  If the GPS tells you to go a certain way, but you think you know a better way, remind yourself of your directional deficiencies and listen to the electronic genius that is stuck on your windshield.  It knows more than you.  Really.

3.  If you don't have a GPS and you stop for directions, WRITE THEM DOWN.  Also have the person draw you a map.  You will need both.

4.  When you stop for directions, ask a woman.  A man will never admit he doesn't know where something is.  So he will simply give you directions anyway.  Women are secure enough to simply say "I don't know".

5.  Do not aspire to the following careers:  mail carrier, one of those people who wheel patients around the hospital to their designated rooms, forest guide (or guide of any kind), taxi driver (or driver of any kind), or Girl Scout (you could get lost going door to door in your neighborhood selling cookies).

Getting lost as much as I do does have its advantages.  I rarely have to give anyone directions......because when I am asked how to get someplace--- if the destination is not in a four block radius of where I am standing, I will usually reply that I do not know. (which of course is true)

For those of you who are also directionally challenged.....we ought to get together and start a support group.

No, wait....nevermind......we would all get lost trying to get there.  Of course we could just meet in one of the two food courts.   

I thought I had this guitar thing nailed.

My guitar instructor informed me that I have to cut my long nails down if I want to play the guitar.   He is adamant about it. I have told him that I find him demanding and mean and that I think he uses his position of power to bully me. He said he finds me funny---that I make him laugh.  He also called me unique.  Actually, ...he didn't really say it that way.  What he said was----that in all his 20 years of teaching guitar, he has never had anyone learn to play the guitar in the unique way that I am learning to play. Not even close.  He laughed when he said it.

I am not sure I like his attitude.

So I am off..... to practice playing-----and to find some clippers.  ......and to plot how I am going to use my hypnosis skills to hypnotize my guitar teacher at my next lesson.  Make him believe that the shoes he wears each day are cute little kittens that he must pet and talk to and cuddle all day long, every day, for the entire week, ...until my next lesson.  

(I can be mean too.)

Goin' Mobile

To celebrate my birthday Dallas wanted to get me a nice gift.   Something I could surely use.  Something I don't already have.  Something that would be cool, high-tech, and modern.    A "real" cell phone.  

OK look---I never had one in Europe. Never needed one.  I had a phone at work, and one at home.  And computers everywhere.  And no one cared where I was nor were they ever desperately trying to reach me when I was en route to someplace or out somewhere or in the grocery store or sitting outside at a cafe'.   But for some reason, when we moved back to the States at the end of 2010, I suddenly needed one.  All of a sudden, it was imperative that I be reached at all times, everywhere.   So I got a phone.  It was a lovely (free) plastic flip phone.  Navy blue plastic.  No voicemail, no extra features, no camera, no internet, no apps, nothing.  Just a small plastic phone.   

I liked it.  What's not to like?  It fits in my purse easily, has a little robotic-mechanical-sounding chime for a ring, and I just pay a few pennies per call (of which I made very few).   

Now fast forward to 2012---And realize that Dallas is probably one of the most tech-savvy, gadget-loving people that I know.  He finally informed me that not only is my phone practically an antique---but that it is embarrassing.  He did not want to be seen with me when I was chatting on my navy blue plastic phone that cleverly (to me anyway) flips open.   He mentioned this several times, so that eventually I began to feel self-conscious when I would talk on it in public.  I imagined that people were staring at me and snickering at my low-tech, ridiculous phone.  I  would attempt to palm it in my hand, so that others wouldn't see the glare of the shiny plastic or bury it in my hair as I talked .   And I began to notice that I seemed to be the only person left on the planet with a cute little plastic navy blue flip phone.  

So although I was fine with the phone.  Happy with it actually----I finally gave in to Dallas and accepted his gift to me for my birthday.  A real grown up phone.  Now I have stuff.  I don't know much about this stuff---but I have all kinds of stuff on that phone.  I have something called a cheese shutter and ice cream sandwich on my phone (which apparently is very important.....and way better than the other option, which is gingerbread).  Oh and I have Gorilla Glass too!  That sounds really cool.  And now I no longer have to hide my phone in my hand or under my hair when I talk.  I can proudly talk on my phone in public, check my email, take photos of every meal I eat (a popular Facebook pastime) and receive voicemail messages even.

Now if only I can figure out how to hit the imaginary buttons on the screen.  Apparently it is not fingernail sensitive.....and my fingernails get in the way of my fingertips.  So my typing is all messed up.  And autocorrect is a big failure so I have discovered.  (I am apparently cooking dinner in my crackpot tomorrow)

So for my 49th birthday I get to learn something new, hold my head a little higher (cuz I am no longer lowering my head ---trying to hide that blue plastic phone in my hair), and get my nails cut down.   How did we ever get along without these phones?  Oh yeah....we carried change with us for the pay phone......and no one ever tried to hunt us down when we were not home.  We were not chained to the world.  It was called Freedom.  I kinda miss it. (and my navy blue plastic phone too)

Three very good reasons to leave my cell phone off while at work

The other day my cell phone rang while I was in my office.  This caught me off-guard for a number of reasons.  One--I never leave my phone on while at work (cuz nothing says "I care" like your therapist's cell phone ringing in the middle of your sharing-of-deep-dark-secrets moment).  Two--my phone is rarely used.  I think only 3 people have my number.  I use it mostly for emergencies.  And reason number Three.....well, that will be clear to you soon.    So anyway....I was really startled when it rang.  I answered--

Me: Hello?  (didn't recognize the number and had no idea who could be calling)

Guy:  Heeeeeeeey! Guess who this is!

Me: um....don't know.  no idea.

Guy:  It's RICHARD!!  

Me:  Ohhhhh...(my cousin Rich in Michigan!) Hey--how are you?  how did you get this number?

Cousin Rich:  Well you sent it to me a long time ago and I saved it all this time!  

Me: (thinking back....oh yeah---sometimes I use the phone when I am in Michigan--must have given it to him when we were making plans to meet up during one of my visits)....So how are you?  What have you been doing?

At this point the conversation goes on for about 15 minutes, each of us sharing info about our jobs and other general life stuff.  But we had a bad connection and at times it was hard to make out what he was saying. But the conversation continued.....

Me:  So what else have you been up to?  Anything fun or interesting?

Cousin Rich:  Not much really....just went on a vacation.  Took the wife to Hawaii.

Me:  (silence)  (thinking....what?  when did Rich get married?  this is weird......I never heard about him getting married. Maybe this isn't my cousin Rich.  Well then who is it dammit?  We have been talking for 20 minutes now, if it's not him I am going to be so embarrassed.)

Me:  (casually) Well, that sounds like a nice vacation.  Hey, where are you calling from?  (my clever tactic to verify that it is Cousin Rich or to find out who it is without admitting I don't know who it is.)

Possibly-Cousin-Rich:  I'm calling from Belgium!  Yeah this is great talking to you! I was just telling someone all about you the other day!

Me: (dammit!!  it is NOT cousin Rich-in-Michigan!  Ok....calm down....you can do this....you can figure out who it is and be slick about it.  He will never know that you never knew who you were talking to.....just be clever and careful.)

Me:  Hey Rich.....we have a very bad connection.  Can you call me right back on my work phone?

Not-Cousin-Rich:  Sure --give me the number.......

We hang up...Great!  now I have gained a few minutes to scour my brain and try to figure out who I know in Belgium named Rich.  Now don't be too harsh on me here......I lived in Belgium for 15 years and many of my friends and co-workers would come and go----military and civilian tours lasted from 2-5 years typically.  So in 15 years....many friends came and went.  (phone rings) Dammit!  I still can't remember anyone named Rich in Belgium!  OK, OK,  get it together....you can still do this.....

Me:  Tanya Oskey (how I answer my phone at work)

Not-Cousin-Rich:  Can I speak to Kim Perino?  

Kim Perino!!!???????   BRAIN STALL!.......now my brain stalls and then goes immediately into overdrive.....thinking....thinking....what is happening here?????  let's see....WAIT!  I KNOW!  I stayed with Kim Perino in Washington DC for 3 months in 2010.  She gave me a phone to use....and when I left, I took her phone chip and put it in my new phone as I wanted to keep the same phone number since my job contacts all had that number.  OH MY GOD!  Not-Cousin-Rich called Kim's old number, which is now my number, and he thinks he is talking to Kim!  

Now all these thoughts fly through my mind in a millisecond.....and so back to the call from Not-Cousin-Rich.....

Me:  Tanya Oskey (how I answer my phone at work)

Not-Cousin-Rich:  Can I speak to Kim Perino? 

Me:  (after my millisecond of horrifying realization my now-frozen brain is not working properly, so I reply with the first thing that comes into my head....)  

Me:  I'm sorry she is not here right now.  (WHAT did I just say!!??? Oh god---I am such an idiot!!)

Kim's-friend-Rich:  (sounding confused)  But I was just talking to her.....she told me to call her at this number.

Me:  (in too deep now)  Well, um, she just stepped out.  Call back later. (WHAT!!  What the hell am I saying!!)

Kim's-friend-Rich:  (sounding a bit let-down)  OK---I guess.

We hang up for the second time.

So now I sit at my desk, knowing the situation is hopeless.  What are my options?...."hey, Kim's-friend-Rich, guess what....you are really going to laugh at this......you were never talking to Kim at all!  It was just me, her friend (more-than-likely-ex-friend-now).  Isn't that a scream!"

Oh god---I can't do that.  I am an idiot.  What to do....what to do...

phone rings again.  

CRAP!

Me: Tanya Oskey

My-ex-friend-Kim's-friend-Rich:  Can I speak to Kim Perino?

Me:  She is not here.  (in waaay too deep without another plan....might as well dig deeper)

My-ex-friend-Kim's-friend-Rich: Well, when will she be back?

Me:  Not sure really, but thanks for calling. 

Poor Rich--he never got in touch with Kim.  Poor Kim--she never got her call from Rich.  

Poor me---I'm so screwed.

(and now I have that third very good reason to never leave my phone on while at work)

Hot Child in the City

My car temperature guage showed it was 112 outside on my way home from work (and it felt just as hot inside the car)..... and I thought---dammit! if only I had the foresight to toss a roast, carrots, and potatoes on my back seat this morning.......

it may not be in the dictionary

me: he wouldn't shut up. he just kept blabbling.

dallas: blabbling? is that a word? i don't think it is.

me: yes it is. 

dallas: no it's not.

me: yes it is. i made it up just now. it is a combination of blah, blah, blah....and babbling. 

BLABBLING: it's a real word

Infectious Disease Control

It's nice when you are sick and someone who cares for you really reaches out and gives you some TLC.  

Unless you live with Dallas.

I have been sick the last week.  Did I get warm chicken soup?  No.  Did I get a nice back rub?  No. Did I get my pillow fluffed?  No.  Nothing.  Zip.  Nada.  Zilch.

Instead....as I roll over, body aching, head pounding, throat burning.......I see a barricade built up between our heads, made up of large white pillows.  In my foggy-headed-achy-stupor I try to make sense of what I see and eventually mumble....what the hell?

Apparently, not only do I NOT get TLC, but I also get banished to my side of the bed.  So as I struggled to fall asleep, I began wondering if I would wake up to find him dressed in a hazmat suit, sterilizing all surfaces in the room, pillow barricade now reinforced with sofa cushions ....myself huddled in a small quarantine tent built up around me....food and water slipped to me and then dishes passed back carefully through a special decontamination process.  

I understand him not wanting to get sick.  But he could at least stop spraying Lysol on everythng that I touch.  And then I noticed him removing his pillow, and then his blanket, every morning when he got out of bed.  He carefully placed them across the room.  Far away from my germs.  After he left for work, I wanted to secretly sneak over and cough all over his stuff.  And I may have just done so .....if I had been able to get out of bed. 

The good news is that my cats were very sympathetic to my plight.  They stayed by my side and laid close, letting me know that they care about how I feel.  ....Well, probably more likely they were just taking advantage of my extra-warm body and my immobility.  But I'll take what I can get.

(on the other hand......perhaps my fever is playing tricks on me, and it is Dallas who is snuggling close.  Meanwhile..... the cats are actually setting up the barricades while we're both asleep)