Ferrets and House Pie

So, this sure was an exciting finals season at the old Casa del Pen Name. I was working on my ten page final paper (over how Helene Deutsch's Psychology of Women is biological deterministic patriarchy-affirming craptasms), and it actually got cold enough that College Station actually froze over!

So, me and K. are sitting and knitting and watching Buffy and most studiously not-doing-homework and we hear a little bell from outside. Thinking that it's Maggie, an adorable indoor/outdoor Calico who roams the apartment complex, we go open the door to let her in out of the cold.

And a ferret comes in.

He's got a little collar with a bell, seems friendly, so we put him in the cat carrier, stick a sign on our door, shrug, and continue with the Buffy. K. goes back to her own place, where half an hour later she hears someone shaking the bushes and crying. She peeks her head out, and it's the owner of the ferret! She directs said owner to our place, they are reunited, and all is well with the world again.

I now totally want to knit a ferret.

So, post-finals weekend sweetie and I went to his sister's house. Things basically ran down like this:

Sister: Okay, I'm off to work, be back soon! Enjoy the third season of the Dead Zone! *exits*

Me: *knitknitknit*

Sweetie: Hmm, I'm hungry. Oh look, pumkin pie! And it's only missing one slice! *eats two slices of pie*

Sister: *comes home many hours later, sees pie crusts* Oh.... oh, no. You didn't eat that pie we've got in the fridge, did you? Oh god, that.... we got that when we moved in! That pie's three months old!

Me: HAHAHA! YOU ATE HOUSE PIE!

The irony here? He eats house pie, but I get sick.