A Second Invasion

Dear Mr. OR,

I write to you now with a distinct feeling of déjà vu. My darling bride has once again informed me of a forthcoming invasion. It is apparent that my darling bride is quite concerned as she has taken to eating copious amounts of food and is beginning to show the bloating around the midsection that usually follows long bouts of compulsive eating. Her moods are often unpredictable which I believe to be a sign of depression. Indeed even her characteristic gait has changed from a strong self confident stride to a side to side shuffle giving her the appearance of a person carrying a large exceptionally heavy burden.

Needless to say I'm terribly concerned for her health and safety. To this end we have begun regular doctor visits to insure that my darling brides current despondency does not turn into something far more dangerous. I am; however, considering having her get a second opinion as no matter how many times I query her doctor about her alarming weight gain and new eating habits her doctor always insists that this is normal and healthy. Should her second opinion agree I will be going back to my diet of fried foods and pizza which was my regular fair before my darling bride decided that we needed to have a more balanced diet.

All of that aside my struggles with the Beast continue. I am happy to report that we have done a good job of teaching the Beast how to speak English although, as is true with most triumphs in this area, the Beast has turned this too its advantage. The Beast has learned to speak rather proficiently and now does so with such enthusiasm and efficiency of thought that it is impossible for anyone else in the house to carry on a conversation. Indeed it seams that as soon as a conversation is begun the Beast instantly appears and begins to yell at the top of its lungs the play by play of which ever event recently happened to it. Should the other participants of the conversation be particularly stubborn in the pursuing of their communicative goals the Beast will repeat itself, raising the decibel level each time, until all hope of getting a coherent idea from one individual to another is completely lost and all civilized individuals quit talking and are reduced to single syllable responses in the hopes that this will pacify the Beast. Indeed there is only one way for civilized individuals to find relief from the Beasts continual torrent of words and that falls to a single member of the Lumpy household. The family cat.

The appearance of the family cat is always met with mixed emotions. The first is relief as for a moment it may actually be possible for someone other than the Beast to carry on a conversation. The second is pity as we know the terror that the cat is about to face until it is able to find a place of relative safety and solitude.

There is much for me to relate to catch you up to where I am now; however, I am woefully low on paper and ink at the minute and in desperate need of household supplies from the local market. I will write more as soon as my meager reserves have been replenished.
I remain always;

Respectfully Yours,

The Lumpy