These days we spend many hours inside because of the cold. And Ottar spends a lot of time throwing objects, pouring water on the floor, and peeing on the furniture.
Sometimes I think maybe I did something to make him this way.
Then I think, maybe he was meant to be this way, and he just wasn't meant to be inside. Like me (who apparently acted just like him when I was little) he was meant to be raised in a stick hut in the jungle. But something went wrong.
The next best thing *I* can think of is hopping in the car in this -6F weather and driving down to the Florida coast, without thinking about it first.
Unfortunately there is some holdup with my husband's paycheck. But that gives me just enough time to consult with AAA and get the car tuned up. Then, I think we're off. Why not?