With the onset of cooler temperatures, Hobkin has gotten really mellow and, if it’s possible, even more snugglesome. He’s been cuddling up with me every night, crawling up beside me and into my arms, and wedging his little head under my jaw. His winter coat has definitely come in, and he’s all soft and fluffy. It’s like hugging a living, snuffling stuffed animal. The only downside is that he tends to wake up about half an hour before my alarm goes off, and then demand his breakfast. And last night he stuck his nose in my ear. His whiskers woke me up, but at least I woke up giggling.
I’m beginning to totally stress about my mother’s visit. As Matthew pointed out, if we don’t come up with things to do while they’re down here, we’ll end up sitting together, making chit-chat, and staring at each other. My personal definition of hell right there. But I don’t want to think about it, so I procrastinate. Argh. It’s so stupid. She’s only going to be here for two days! I ought to be able to handle two days without imploding. Dammit.