A shift in domestic relations

So, Edgar.

He's been here for eight months now. I ran into Brucie a few weeks ago, and informed him that Edgar is mine now.

Brucie grudgingly agreed.

Edgar still spends most of his time in the basement. He no longer hides out in the crawlspace, but is instead curled up on a box of empty wine bottles (and I stuck a blanket on top of the box, because I felt sorry for the poor fellow).

Occasionally, he comes up of his own volition, but I also go down and bring him upstairs.

I had a brutal week last week, so I bailed on most of my plans for this week. Therefore, Edgar has been spending lots of time upstairs. He sits on my desk, while I surf Ravelry and knit. He even curls up on the scanner and snoozes sometimes.

The routine has been that I go to bed, and shortly thereafter, Parker chases him downstairs. It's not pleasant.

Tonight was different. It is Thursday, which is usually date night (meaning that Mustache Man makes me dinner, at his place, and we have a co-ed sleepover) but he has other stuff going on, and I am exhausted. So, I am at home, watching my stories and knitting. Edgar and I were sitting on the sofa watching Grey's Anatomy. Parker was on the other loveseat, sending the two of us dirty looks.

I got up to go to wring out some hand-washing after the program, and then sat down here at the computer.

I heard a scrap, and thought for sure that Edgar was being chased to the basement.

Nope. He was still in the living room, and Parker had scattered.

And just now, Edgar pranced out of the living room and waltzed to the back door to be let out. Parker moped after him.

It's about time Edgar gave as good as he got!