Another Monday home alone with Trot.
All the usual stuff; mopping the floors, doing the laundry, picking up toys as fast as he can throw them around, turning around for 2 seconds and suddenly he's gone, off to parts unknown.
Knowing that I've got every possible door locked with a chain at the top does give me at least some semblance of peace, but not being able to find him coupled with his previous history usually makes this a race against time.
Do I find him BEFORE or AFTER the impending havoc?
Today was a new one. I could hear him thumping around but couldn't pinpoint the exact spot due to the washing machine, dish washer, and the television all performing a symphony of unflipping believable annoying background music.
Finally, I opened the door to the closet under the stairs and found this image looking back at me.
Notice the beady little eyes staring out the handle on the right; if he hadn't had his hand sticking out the other side I probably would have missed him. After convincing him that no, he wasn't Batman and no, that wasn't the Bat cave, and yes I really DID know the actual Batman, he climbed out.
Tuesdays with Morrie doesn't come close to Mondays with Trot.
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