Where is that sweater?

Well, it has been a busy couple of days.

First of all, I have a new house sitter. (My previous one realized that she couldn't do it right now, much to my relief.) I'm now comfortable with leaving.

Many years ago when I was in Ottawa as a co-op student, I worked with a group that had just done their Myers-Briggs personality tests, and my manager got me and another co-op student to do ours as well. When we were getting our results, the woman who was doing the analysis looked at me and said, "I bet you have really organized closets."

Today I organized my closet. There's always some sort of order to it, but it does get lost when I'm lazy putting clothes away. However, I wanted to pack a sweater that I couldn't find, so I went through and organized it today.

I also vacuumed under the couch, since I moved the couch thinking the sweater might have fallen behind it. Then I noticed that the lampshades were dusty, so I vacuumed them.

(I still can't find the sweater.)

Changing the subject, I call my niece a monkey. She usually says she's not a monkey.

When she was about two, I was at their house and we were eating fruit salad. She asked my dad for the bananas from his salad. He gave them to her. She asked her mom for her bananas. She asked my mom for her bananas. She asked me for my bananas - and when she had everyone's bananas, she looked up with a big grin and said, "Only monkeys eat bananas."

Anyway, I always tell her that monkey elbows are my favourite snack. She then bends her arms and, when I go over to nibble on them, straightens her arms out so that her elbows disappear.

Tonight I was talking with my mom on the phone. She was trying to figure out what we were going to have for Christmas dinner, and I said, "You know my favourite food, right? Monkey elbows!"

My niece heard me and said, "Auntie Colette, here are my monkey elbows."

"Can I have some?"

"Oh, they're straight now.... Pointy. Straight. Pointy. Straight."

Soon she'll be too old for stuff like this, but it's fun while it lasts.

She might even stop roaring at me on the phone.