8:23 am, I'm sitting on the couch in PJ's eating a powerbar and drinking coffee. Charlie is plugging in the vacuum.
"You're not vacuuming now are you?"
"Just by the foot of the bed because Fluffington has decided to make that his shedding lair."
Whenever the vacuum goes on, the cats come scattering out like animals from a forest fire. They run, swagger bellies low to the ground, to the farthest point in the house from the vacuum. Sometimes, I'll vacuum in the bathroom without realizing that Bitty's crouching behind the open door. All of a sudden, like a runaway train she bolts, her legs moving faster than Scooby Doos', eyes big as saucers.
Last night, during dinner prep, I was considering the things you learn in partnership. Where I prefer my pasta Al Dente, Charles prefers it nice and cooked. But partnership is a compormise-- so I take out my pasta when it's done, and leave his in for four more minutes. Easy peasy, and we both eat happily.