Every once in awhile, it happens: my eyes land upon a spot in my house that for whatever reason I’ve never noticed before, and I am horrified.
Let me tell you a very disgusting story (sorry).
Over the past few months, Lucy has developed a habit of sleeping in my closet. And not just “in my closet”: in one of the storage boxes lined up along the floor of my closet, which hold things like out-of-season sweaters and accessories I rarely use and such. It never really bothered me, because she weighs six pounds and always seems very cute and peaceful when she’s all curled up on top of a pile of my clothing.