Drawing straws is a selection method used by a group to choose one member who must perform a task no one else will volunteer for.  In our house it’s more like rock, paper, scissors.  For instance, who has to let the wolfies out in the middle of the night?  Burk.  But who has to disarm the house?  Me.  Who loads the dishes into the dishwasher?  Burk.  Who cooks the meals?  Me.  Who mostly takes out the trash?  Burk.  Who has to pick up the disgusting hair ball the cat just cast up?  Me.  Always me.  Who feeds the cats?  Maris.  Who sets the table?  Maris.  As she gets older she is taking on more responsibility, some with relish and some with a soupçon of sassy.  The later is NOT tolerated.  When I was a kid my mother had a sign in the kitchen that read, “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”  Truer, more prophetic words were never spoken.  I think my two beloveds are JUST now starting to figure that out.  I wish I still had that sign.  Retired United States Navy admiral Michael Mullen is quoted as having said, “Don’t try to run your life through a single straw.  Someone, some event, will cut it off.”  I am thankful I have not tried to run my life through a single straw.  I was happy with myself before I ever got married.  I have always had my passion for animals, my love of music, my interest in history, my enjoyment in writing, and my faith in Christ.  All of the aforementioned have helped me deal with the deaths of my parents.  I still feel alone; I still feel sad, but I am thankful I have my husband and my child now to call family.  I have my four-legged babies, too.  I may like organizing things, but it sure is nice to have a little help.  As for who gets to clean up the pile of poop on the floor?  I’m all for drawing straws.