My parents have arrived in Portland, and here's what that means:
- Otto gets fed about twelve times a day, with whatever his little cat heart desires.
- When he isn't eating, Otto plays with one of the dozens of toys that my mother has brought him. The highlight ---some sort of fur tail that my mother claims to be rabbit. She also claims that she sow it together.
- My father firmly believes that everything at Trader Joe's is healthy. It's not.
- The fridge door now regularly gets opened around 3am.
- Nordstrom Rack is having an excellent month of May.
- I am getting to crash in a sleeping bag. On my futon.
- My mother is having troubles with her camera's USB stick. Again.
- The soaps, shampoos and conditioners that I collect from hotel rooms all across America have a (very happy) new owner.
- My father is making the point that every piece of clothing I own, fits him.