Sam’s Phone, Patches, and Katie

sam­bear got his phone replaced yes­ter­day, then it went wonky again this morn­ing. He just went back to the com­pa­ny and demand­ed an entire­ly new phone, which they final­ly, reluc­tant­ly, gave him.

Patch­es has dis­cov­ered the pil­lows on the ledge under my desk. where I rest my feet. She has decid­ed that is the best place to be, as she’s with me and she feels that she’s in an enclosed space. She’s def­i­nite­ly a Dad­dy’s girl, or dog, or whatever.

Katie is slid­ing in and out of pain-killer-laced con­scious­ness. She awoke and got ter­ri­bly upset because she had drooled in her sleep and got blood on the couch. It cer­tain­ly was­n’t a big deal to me. Yes, it’ll leave a stain—but I’d rather have her sleep­ing on the couch where I can check on her eas­i­ly than in her bed right now.