There are strange things afoot in the X Household, people. Very strange things.
Take for example, the Case of the Missing Library Book. I have never lost a library book that I can recall – I may have returned some with little bite marks on their covers from a certain kitty who like to sink his fangs into paper, but I haven’t ever not returned one. My streak may be coming to an end, as I am completely at a loss. My last memory was finishing it in my super comfy chair in the living room and placing it on the ottoman. It has now vanished. Mr. X is not in the habit of touching my books so I don’t think he move it. The cleaning ladies were here last week – maybe they moved it to a space known only to them. I have looked everywhere I can think. Bel Canto, where are you?!
Then there is the Case of the Missing Pitcher. It’s quite large and Mr. X has managed to hide it somewheres I can’t see. It was in this last load in the dishwasher and Mr. X emptied the dishwasher – but now, it is nowhere to be found. And, it’s so large, there’s not that many places he could put it. He’s also out of town until tomorrow, so I’m out of luck until then. Either I have a lot more hiding places in my kitchen or he is just trying to mess with my head.
There is also the Mystery of Progesterone Dosage. Nurse to a T called this morning with the results of my endometrial biospy from the mock cycle. This was the pretend cycle to determine how to do the for real FET cycle. Turns out, there is a discrepancy of a day between the day of my cycle that the test results say I was at when I had the biopsy and the actual day of my cycle that I was at. So, Dr. Uterus has ordered the slides to view for himself and then will make a determination as to how much progesterone should be used. So, I guess the mock cycle was a good idea after all. I hate it when he’s right – and he is just decent enough to not invoke the “I told you so”. The good news is that we are still on for an 8/8/8 transfer. Luckily that corresponds to the date, not the number of embryos we are putting back.
Yet another mystery: the source of leaks in the back yard. Areas of spongy wet grass when we haven’t had rain in a while = leak. Damn. Visions of backhoes and digging are already dancing in my head.
And, the last mystery for today: why Fluffy barfed up all of his dinner last night and wouldn’t come down for breakfast this morning. That one at least has a likely answer: I put on his flea treatment Wednesday night and it’s new to them: Revolution. He must have licked some because he managed to puke up everything in his little stomach and unlike his brother, he needs to eat all he can! The good news is he ate some breakfast and was chirping at me when I would stop by and say hello. We’ll see how he does for dinner (eating – not being eaten).
Any clues as to these mysteries would be greatly appreciated.