Yeah yeah. I know. It's Chicago. And it's January. And I live on a condo with insulation from the 1920s. And blah blah blabby blabby blah.
It was freakin' frigid in my house this week and my poor little 25-year-old furnace was struggling to keep up. (Fact: One night this week, I crawled under the covers, which included a cotton flat sheet, a fleece blanket, an old thin down comforter, a regular comforter, a bedspread and, just for added heft, an unzipped sleeping bag.) (Fact: I later kicked off the sleeping bag.) (Fact: I briefly missed the ex-live in boy and his heated mattress pad. Briefly.)
Anyway, since I first wrote about the geniusness of my sleeping bag inspired splants, my sleeping bag has been getting a lot of use around my house. However, since it was so cold, the Mutt Dog decided she should commandeer it for her own exclusive snuggling pleasure.
Can you spy the Mutt Dog?
Ooooh. Excuse me. I've disturbed her royal highness. Pardon me, Macy.
How about some treats? And we'll call it even.