If it weren't for the fact that every single person in this family wants a piece of me (for their own various reasons) I would probably be ostracized for life at this point.

Tomorrow marks the great push of the campaign to save our clothes, linens, shoe laces, and remaining blinds. The notice is printed. It's sitting on top of my car keys lest I forget it in the mad rush to leave tomorrow morning. It's carefully worded and the pictures were calculated selections.

"MR. BILL NEEDS A NEW HOME!" is the title of the notice. It's going up on the announcement board at the vet clinic I've worked at for years.

Yes, after hundreds (a thousand?) of dollars worth of damage I have finally convinced Jason that the cat needs to go. True, Mr. Bill might be the coolest cat that we have ever (or will ever) own. But his dirty little habit is not compatible with rearing a houseful of children (what two year old can remember to close a bedroom door EVERY single time she goes thru it?). That cat has driven me to tears on more than one occasion because he has beaten me in the battle to protect my family's cotton possessions. Well, he may have won many battles but he will NOT win the war, my friends!

I have a dream that one day I will be able to hang a bra to dry in my laundry room and not have it rendered strapless.

I have a dream that one day I will be able to do buy curtains and be confident that they will not be chewed up and regurgitated onto the carpet or couch.

I have a dream that my four little children will be able to have shoelaces that are longer than the gnawed length of about 5 inches.

I have a dream.

(much apologies to Dr. King)