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I do love a vacation, but I may love coming home to my quaint routine even more.  The Princess is on a field trip to the apple orchard, Prince Charming is back at work, and I am knee deep in laundry.

It’s a beautiful autumn day here in the south, and I have the windows and back door open which is great for the fresh air and nice breeze.  It is NOT great, however, if you’ve been away and your stupid cat has r e a l l y missed you and wants to bring you a little “Welcome Home” gift.

A LIVE “Welcome Home” gift.

A LIVE RODENT “Welcome Home” gift.

As I am walking down the hallway carrying an enormous pile of dirty clothes and chatting with Mama on the phone, I see a little brown ball of fur scurry through the family room with Jabba The Cat hot on his heels.  One shriek and three curses later  – See, Mom, I CAN blog without swearing – I am off the phone and reaching for my broom.

By now my “Welcome Home” gift is hiding from the cat under my desk.  I poke the bristles at the critter and out pops a tiny little chip-monkey.  Yes, I know it’s really called a “chipmunk”, but the Princess christened these creatures as “chip-monkeys” when she was about three and it’s a way cuter name so that’s what I call them too.

(OMG.  I just realized where she gets her hard head and sassy mouth.)

I will share my home with fish and frogs and turtles and cats.  But rodents?  No sir.  So I run behind the chipmonkey and give him a gentle whack toward the kitchen.  I see his little feet scrambling for traction so I race over and whack him toward the family room.

And then approaching the goal back door, I give Mr. Chipmonkey a final whack right over the threshold and out onto the screen porch.

She shoots.  She S C O R E S!!

Dear crazy concerned animal lovers:  No Chipmonkeys were harmed in the writing of this blog. Do NOT send me PETA links and hate mail.