Beth the Eldest called early Sunday morning to tell me how cool I am. Beth calls a lot, she�s a cell phone maniac with unlimited minutes and a special ring tone for everyone (cue theme from Grumpy Old Men, here). Maggie the Middlest worked today but stopped by to revel in my presence afterward. And Ben flabbergasted everyone within the hectare by making a pizza for me at his pizza joint and having it delivered by one of his fellow lackeys, who tried singing Happy Fathers Day (doubtfully, if not with sincerity) on arrival at my stoop.

Me? All I did was violate the Sabbath yet again by working at Ally�s employers home. Another room full of flooring, another vat full of cat hair sucked into the shopvac. I don�t know how those of you who harbor multiple cats do it, I truly don�t. Yesterday, after throwing down a glistening new floor in the master bedroom and standing back to admire for a moment, I was a little annoyed to see three huge balls of cat hair drift in from the adjoining hall and settle into the corners of the room.

Not annoyed enough to drag the vacuum back out again though. And I won�t even mention the litter box garage (a frightful affair with several overflowing boxes), the poop that doesn�t quite make to the garage, the dander, the lingering smells, the food bowls in odd places. I swear, I come home from a day at the cathouse and feel like jumping in the shower with a pumice stone and a quart bottle of disinfectant.

Thanks to all who wished Father�s Day blessings on me. I�m fortunate to have been on the receiving end of a father who was blessed indeed, and to have 3 kids who make being a father a rare and privileged event. Everyday.

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