It was a Friday afternoon like any other. The Crazy Lady slaved away in the kitchen churning out delicacy after delicacy, filling the house with mouthwatering aromas.
Cats and dog alike, ran from the roar of the vacuum as I made a futile attempt to tackle the volume of fur that covered the floors in a thick blanket. As they ran, loose fur floated off them onto the floor to replenish what I had managed to vacuum up.
I finally managed to vacuum a goodly amount of fur and set to the task of washing the floor. As I prepared to wash the floor, The Crazy Lady retired to her office for a short break. The animals remained under the sofas and in their dark corners, cowering from the roar of the all mighty vacuum.
Vacuuming was tiring work and I thought that I deserved a snack. I had done a rather good job, all things considered, and was quite hungry. I set aside the mop and made myself a quick snack. It wasn't the fanciest of snacks, just an egg salad sandwich with a cucumber cut up on the side.
I ate some cucumber slices and then remember that I was supposed to be mopping the floor. The kitchen seemed like a fairly good place to start so I retrieved the mop and washed the floor. My food was now effectively trapped in the kitchen and I was locked out.
The wet tiles of the kitchen floor gleamed up at me as I looked across the kitchen and realized what I had done. Patience is a virtue, but as you probably know, not one that I posses. I cast a forlorn look at my snack and turned away. Looking at it was too painful, it only reminded me of my hunger.
With a sigh and a heavy heart I sat down on the stairs to wait for the floor to dry. My snack sat on the counter, taunting me. It did not take long for me to discover that watching tiles dry was about as exciting as watching paint dry, which I've gathered isn't very much fun at all.
It was a trying time for me. I was all alone in the vast emptiness of the main floor and it occurred to me that this must be what the hunger games would feel like in real life. Only slightly less dramatic than the books that the movie was based off of as my only opponent was the dog and he was fast asleep on the couch.
But wait, what was that? Behold, a lone ant was scurrying across the tiles making its way to the kitchen. Ah, so I was not alone. This was to be another fearsome opponent. I wondered who would win.
The ant stopped at the edge of the tile that bordered the entrance to the kitchen. The sunlight glinted off of the still wet tiles. The ant stood still. Perhaps he was gathering his strength, his courage. For who among us could be so brave to step into the cold oasis of the kitchen and face the wrath of whatever might be within?
A furry gray creature stirred from her sleep. The ant retreated at the sound. The creature rose from its cardboard box and slinked across the kitchen counter. The creature landed at the entrance to the kitchen with a "mew". The keeper of the kitchen looked down at the ant, unimpressed. The ant would not be the victor.
The keeper of the kitchen looked at me expectantly and then proceeded to plop onto the floor and roll around on the slightly damp tiles, seemingly unaffected by their powers. I looked on in awe. The keeper meowed. The dog woke.
I heard his nails clicking against the tiles as he made his way to where I was standing. The snack sat on the counter illuminated by a ring of sunlight. The dog crept closer and I knew that the time had come.
With a deep breath, I deemed the tiles dry enough and hurried over the startled cat and into the kitchen to claim my prize.
My snack was delightful. It tasted of egg salad, cucumbers and victory.