Small Stress Ball

Post-reveal, Jack and Maddie are trying really hard to be supportive of Danny and just roll with it, but he keeps doing stuff like this

Bonus, immediately before this:

You pass by a small crowd of hungry children, and decide you’d rather 455 apples go rotten than give them to some snotty brat who isn’t your problem.

It doesn’t matter how hard you’ve worked for your 500 apples, or that you aren’t the parent of any of those kids. in the moment you decide to walk away, it doesn’t matter why they’re hungry, or who owes who what.

You had the opportunity to help people, you had the ability to help people, you had the resources to help people. You had everything you needed to make a small, tiny little difference in someone’s life, and you decided not to.

MOTHER

FUCKIN

HANUKKAH 

SEASON

Turned on the lights because Toffee was being ridiculously noisy, only to see:

The lid is on and 100% locked via the handles.

I wadded up a bunch of tissue to shove into the gap, until I could get something done about it. This didn’t stop Toffee from trying to escape.

Gorgeous. I stayed up, partly out of paranoia, and he decided to keep trying to noodle his way out until gone 2am. Fun fact: I get up for work at 5am.

But he went back into his cave eventually, and was still there when I woke up. I was fairly certain that he’d manage to get out while I was at work, though, and decided whatever–I can close the door, it’s a tiny room, and there’s no way for him to get under the floorboards or into the walls.

Popped into B&Q on my way back from work to get some wood to plug the gaps with, came home, and yep…

He made short work of that.

I start looking in the obvious places, not super panicked. If you’ve followed me for a while, you may remember the saga of the last time I lost him: he was out, sitting on my lap, and then he wasn’t. Five hours later, after tearing apart the house, I found him inside my bed frame. Anyway: behind and around the rack, behind the 15kg bag of substrate I have that takes up 90% of my floor, under the bed–nothing.

Put my bag down on the bed, glance at the pillow and wait a minute.

Jackpot.

Don’t give me that face. 

His squished face is perfect