I am embarking on the annual agonizing drudgery known as the Tax Homework required before submitting all the scraps, questionable totals, notes and questions to the accountant (for whom, praise be). This involves NUMBERS (hardly my forte) and sums, categorizing, scraping my desk, online banking and assorted drawers for relevant elements. This usually puts me in a very bad mood in which I snap easily when interrupted.
In his demented reincarnation, from my view, Jim's sole purpose in life is to interrupt me as often as possible. So, I have taken to assigning him busy work but such must be a task in which he can bury himself sans my assistance and can't be something that will make a mess (Jim's second purpose in life).
Folding laundry is a good one but requires clean laundry. This afternoon I noticed the box of chess books Jim left out last night and, ahah! "Jim, why don't you make a list of all your chess books?" Brilliant, she's brilliant.