you can't eat that!
5:02 PM Eastern Time
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Adolescent rebellion
My moms each have a little table on their side of the bed. My one mom, with the snuggly lap, has just a plain table that she keeps some stuff on. (She used to have a glorious pile of stuff on there, but then my other mom made her clean it all up and thereby RUINED ALL MY EARLY-MORNING FUN.) My other mom, with the delicious hair, has a full-fledged nightstand with a drawer. There are all kinds of fun things in this drawer, like my hairball candy and my toothpaste and my catnip and most of all my brush. I get so excited when this drawer opens, even though it's usually my one mom looking for something to tie back all her yummy hair with and NOT ANYTHING FOR ME.
Last night my mom with the snuggly lap opened the drawer and took out my brush. I know the brush is mainly for my back and my sides, but what I really like is having my face brushed. My moms sometimes say that I am a self-brushing cat because they can just hold the brush still and I will RUB MY FACE ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy. They also say I am a self-petting cat because they can just hold their hand still and I will RUB MY HEAD ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy, but honestly I like the face-brushing much better.
I got a little carried away with the self-brushing last night, I guess, because all of a sudden my mom with the snuggly lap STOPPED THE BRUSHING and called to my mom with the delicious hair about WHAT DO WE DO IF THE CAT IS BLEEDING? My mom with the delicious hair got all worried and ran into the room to see what was going on, and my other mom said THE CAT CUT HER CHIN ON THE BRUSH and then they were poking at me under the chin to see what exactly I'd done.
My mom with the delicious hair got out some stuff in a tube, which at first I thought was hairball candy, and so naturally I got all excited even though I was freaked out about the fact that THE BRUSHING HAD STOPPED and my moms were worried. Sadly, it was not hairball candy. Instead it was something I've seen my moms put on their own minor injuries, and the same stuff my mom put on the back of my ears that time that time she was really stressed out and I caught her stress and started scratching the backs of my ears all the time. So my mom with the delicious hair put this stuff under my chin, where I couldn't lick it off. Not that I would want to, anyway, because it doesn't taste that great.
My moms were going on about how THE CAT DOESN'T KNOW MODERATION (which is true; witness my tendency to eat plants and barf them up) and how CATS DON'T NEED FACIAL PIERCINGS.
This I take issue with.
Although in human years I am in my mid-thirties, WHICH MAKES ME OLDER THAN MY MOMS, I am enjoying a belated adolescent rebellion. I have been trashing the house when my moms are not home (and sometimes when they are), indulging in my drugs of choice whenever possible, and lapsing in my chores (eating the bugs). I think I am old enough now to decide for myself about getting a piercing or two.
But my moms NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING ANYWAY.
Last night my mom with the snuggly lap opened the drawer and took out my brush. I know the brush is mainly for my back and my sides, but what I really like is having my face brushed. My moms sometimes say that I am a self-brushing cat because they can just hold the brush still and I will RUB MY FACE ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy. They also say I am a self-petting cat because they can just hold their hand still and I will RUB MY HEAD ALL OVER IT and drool in ecstasy, but honestly I like the face-brushing much better.
I got a little carried away with the self-brushing last night, I guess, because all of a sudden my mom with the snuggly lap STOPPED THE BRUSHING and called to my mom with the delicious hair about WHAT DO WE DO IF THE CAT IS BLEEDING? My mom with the delicious hair got all worried and ran into the room to see what was going on, and my other mom said THE CAT CUT HER CHIN ON THE BRUSH and then they were poking at me under the chin to see what exactly I'd done.
My mom with the delicious hair got out some stuff in a tube, which at first I thought was hairball candy, and so naturally I got all excited even though I was freaked out about the fact that THE BRUSHING HAD STOPPED and my moms were worried. Sadly, it was not hairball candy. Instead it was something I've seen my moms put on their own minor injuries, and the same stuff my mom put on the back of my ears that time that time she was really stressed out and I caught her stress and started scratching the backs of my ears all the time. So my mom with the delicious hair put this stuff under my chin, where I couldn't lick it off. Not that I would want to, anyway, because it doesn't taste that great.
My moms were going on about how THE CAT DOESN'T KNOW MODERATION (which is true; witness my tendency to eat plants and barf them up) and how CATS DON'T NEED FACIAL PIERCINGS.
This I take issue with.
Although in human years I am in my mid-thirties, WHICH MAKES ME OLDER THAN MY MOMS, I am enjoying a belated adolescent rebellion. I have been trashing the house when my moms are not home (and sometimes when they are), indulging in my drugs of choice whenever possible, and lapsing in my chores (eating the bugs). I think I am old enough now to decide for myself about getting a piercing or two.
But my moms NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING ANYWAY.
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This ("My moms were going on about how THE CAT DOESN'T KNOW MODERATION") was so hysterically funny - I didn't just snicker. It got a belly laugh.
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