These little things for foolish minds

There are a number of ways we have taken to escaping the boredom. Joachin chats to his friends on the PlayStation. Sue and I occupy ourselves with work. Bethan participates in a model UN.
I’m not quite sure when and how this debate chamber was initiated. All I know is that its something to do with her university chat group, and it always seems to occur when I’m watching telly. There is nothing more disconcerting than trying to watch Westworld and hearing ‘Russia does not agree’ coming from the next room.
The other attempt we’ve taken up is board games. We tried playing Settlers of Catan in the garden the other day. It was great while the sun was shining, and we could have a leisurely game while sipping soda streams. Then the wind got up. What had been a leisurely morning activity became increasingly frantic as the wind starting reallocating resources and we all found ourselves playing our cards close to our chest for fear they might be redistributed to the other end of the garden.
Gradually, we are becoming accustomed to these random deviations from our normal lives. My work colleagues have become used to me gently bouncing up and down while the floor vibrates to the rhythm of a dancer. If they listen carefully, they can hear the unmistakeable count of ‘a five, six, seven, eight’. It’s like living on the set of Fame.
The only one unaffected by all of this is Goose. He goes about his daily routine, eating, sleeping, and sometimes switching it up a bit by sleeping and eating.
In the end, though, I kind of like the oddity. We had become too used to old patterns: come in, watch TV, go to sleep. Now, every day is a new excitement. We should all be more like Goose. Accept everything, purr at whatever comes next and occasionally lie down and hope someone gives us a tummy tickle.