We went to see the boys last night. Murray has no idea who we are, just some nice bipeds who came to visit while his normal folks were away who brought primo nip. Nemo remembers, though. Every time we left the room he'd run to see where we were going and he came downstairs with us when he left and looked so torn, us or Murray and the toys, us or Murray. I cried and cried.
We woke up slow today, made bacon and biscuits before getting to our presents here at the house. I got the Shakespeare Cats calendar I wanted, a bunch of DVDs and some new plays and other wonderful things. Mark put in the copy of High Fidelity I got him the moment he broke the seal on the case and I was being annoying and reading aloud parts of Corpus Christi and the new Neil Gaiman story from Black Heart Ivory Bones. ("None of them know that one day, in their turn, Boys and girls will find themselves become bad kings or wicked stepmothers," It just gives me the shivers!)