My muse taps me on the shoulder.  “Hey, you need to sit your butt in the chair and write.” 

     “I will, as soon as the dogs go out, the dishes are done, the bathroom is clean, the kitchen floor mopped, and I have a moment or two.”

     “No, no, no.  You need to do it now.”  She points to the desk.

     “Easy for you to say.  The dogs aren’t poking you, the dirt isn’t screaming obscenities at you, and the dust bunnies aren’t flipping you the bird and laughing.”  I stand with my hands on my hips and glare at her.  “If I sit down and work, are you going to clean for me?”

     “No, that’s not my job.”

     “Figures.”

     Gavin rattles his food dish.

     “Could you feed the dogs?”

     “Again, not my job.”

     I pick up the dog bowls.  Then I clean the water dishes, put in fresh water, carry the food dishes to the back porch, and scoop food into them. 

     “What are doing?  You said you’d sit down and write.”

     I point at the clock.  “The big hand is on twelve, the little hand is on five, it’s their dinnertime.”

     “Can’t they wait?”

     Gavin begins to scold so I have to yell over him.  “What do you think?” 

     Patty joins the chorus.  I hurry to stir warm water into their kibble so I can set the bowls down for them.

     My muse has covered her ears by this time.  “What?”

     “I said…oh, never mind.  I’ll see you sometime around seven.”