“Definitely” is one of the few words I actually have to think about to spell correctly. I always relate it to “define” in my mind; there is no “a” in that bad boy. So ends today’s English teacher moment: on with Mammal Monday!

One of the best things about coming home from work on a Monday is coming home to my boys. No matter how ugly Monday has been, I can always count on Sherman and Leroy to greet me with enthusiasm. I’m not deluded enough to think Leroy is just as excited to see me as he is for his afternoon snack, but it’s nice to feel appreciated. If The Electrician is over, he always meets me with a smooch and a smile. He generally finds his own snacks, and even if I build him one I don’t make him eat it out of a bowl on the floor.

As Mondays go, today wasn’t exactly ugly. It was more like Ugly’s walleyed-cousin Cantankerous. Cantankerous days incite eye rolling, tension headaches, and sweaty armpits; they are the kind of days that make a person wish she’d stayed snug and cosy in bed. Because my bed isn’t hard enough to leave at the butt crack of dawn as it is. Cantankerous days are the worst when they fall on Mondays because the rest of the week looks like an uphill climb (San Francisco-style) if Monday has been a bumpy ride. Some weeks that uphill climb appears to have been coated with lime Jell-o (the worst, worst kind) and that’s when I know I’m in for it.

Arriving home from school today, head thudding away behind my eyebrows and shirt stuck to my armpits, I collapsed onto my couch with a Diet Pepsi in my hand. Moments later, my trio of furry loves appeared to cheer me up.

Cantankerous Mondays can only be alleviated through a series of critical steps. First, I change out of my nice school clothes and into something warm and floppy. I find a modest chunk of dark chocolate. Then we find something not too brain cell decimating on television, take a couple deep breaths, and let go of Monday. Sometimes we need to tell Monday things like, “Get lost!” or “scram!” and sometimes we need to be really forceful and insult Monday so it will leave. I’ve had particular success with, “Monday, you smell like the feet of a long distance runner wearing gorgonzola insoles and a necklace made of dog turd!” There are times when humour works best. “Hey, Monday. Yeah, you! Make like a baby and head out!” Eventually, Monday gets the message.

After even the most cantankerous Monday, at least I have my boys to love me. I know I can count on Leroy for a purr (and a drool), Sherman for a sloppy kiss, and The Electrician for a bear hug. How lucky am I?

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