you can't eat that!
2:00 PM Eastern Time
Friday, May 11, 2007
Two dinners! (Or, How I fooled my moms)
Last night my one mom, with the tasty hair, went out with Charlie and Lucy's mom. My other mom, with the comfy lap, had not yet come home from work.
Usually when one of my moms leaves before the other gets home, my one mom will call my other mom to let her know whether I have already have dinner. This is because I have been known to YOWL AS THOUGH I HAVE NEVER BEEN FED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE when one of my moms walks into the house, even though I am still digesting my dinner.
As usual, my mom with the tasty hair left a message for my mom with the comfy lap. I overheard her doing so. It was a rather long message, with the first part being about BALANCING THE CHECKBOOK and the second part being about FEEDING THE CAT. I do not have the slightest idea what BALANCING THE CHECKBOOK is about, but I do know that my mom with the tasty hair spent a very long time on it yesterday and this caused her much frustration.
Obviously, I know what FEEDING THE CAT is about. My mom with the tasty hair said in her message I AM GOING TO FEED THE CAT BEFORE I GO, and true to her word, she fed me and then left.
My mom with the comfy lap came in the door a few hours later. She was a little frustrated because she was supposed to feed PIZZA to some people, but none of the people actually came. I thought maybe she would feel better if she got to feed somebody (I.E., ME), and so I put on my best STARVING CAT ACT.
When my mom with the tasty hair came home much later, my mom with the comfy lap said I FED THE CAT. My mom with the tasty hair said DIDN'T YOU GET MY MESSAGE? I SAID I WAS GOING TO FEED THE CAT. And my mom with the comfy lap said OOPS.
And then it was all YOU LITTLE SCAMP! and WHAT A MANIPULATIVE BEAST YOU ARE! and IF YOU PUKE UP TWO DINNERS IN THE NIGHT, I AM GOING TO BE VERY, VERY MAD.
But I just sat there smugly. Naturally I was quite pleased with myself, on account of the success of my little ruse. I would have patted myself on the back, except I CAN'T REACH.
Usually when one of my moms leaves before the other gets home, my one mom will call my other mom to let her know whether I have already have dinner. This is because I have been known to YOWL AS THOUGH I HAVE NEVER BEEN FED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE when one of my moms walks into the house, even though I am still digesting my dinner.
As usual, my mom with the tasty hair left a message for my mom with the comfy lap. I overheard her doing so. It was a rather long message, with the first part being about BALANCING THE CHECKBOOK and the second part being about FEEDING THE CAT. I do not have the slightest idea what BALANCING THE CHECKBOOK is about, but I do know that my mom with the tasty hair spent a very long time on it yesterday and this caused her much frustration.
Obviously, I know what FEEDING THE CAT is about. My mom with the tasty hair said in her message I AM GOING TO FEED THE CAT BEFORE I GO, and true to her word, she fed me and then left.
My mom with the comfy lap came in the door a few hours later. She was a little frustrated because she was supposed to feed PIZZA to some people, but none of the people actually came. I thought maybe she would feel better if she got to feed somebody (I.E., ME), and so I put on my best STARVING CAT ACT.
When my mom with the tasty hair came home much later, my mom with the comfy lap said I FED THE CAT. My mom with the tasty hair said DIDN'T YOU GET MY MESSAGE? I SAID I WAS GOING TO FEED THE CAT. And my mom with the comfy lap said OOPS.
And then it was all YOU LITTLE SCAMP! and WHAT A MANIPULATIVE BEAST YOU ARE! and IF YOU PUKE UP TWO DINNERS IN THE NIGHT, I AM GOING TO BE VERY, VERY MAD.
But I just sat there smugly. Naturally I was quite pleased with myself, on account of the success of my little ruse. I would have patted myself on the back, except I CAN'T REACH.
Labels: brains
3:27 PM Eastern Time
Friday, November 03, 2006
Habla la gata
My one mom, with the tasty hair, is learning Spanish. My other mom, with the comfy lap, already knows Spanish; but my mom with the tasty hair said I DON'T WANT YOU TO TEACH ME SPANISH, for reasons unknown, and so she goes off to a classroom two nights a week instead.
As previously mentioned, I am extremely talented in that I can read with my head or my butt, while I am awake or while I am asleep. Utilizing a combination of these methods, I have taken it upon myself to learn Spanish along with my one mom.
My favorite thing thus far is this exercise from her workbook, in which a cat offers her INCREDIBLE DAILY AUTOBIOGRAPHY:
I will now demonstrate my knowledge of Spanish by translating this passage. Witness my linguistic prowess:
These fleas, these fleas! I'm here on the sofa, extremely bored. This is because my masters do not pay any attention to me. Only the kids in the family, Ernestito and Guillermo, play with me. And I really don't like to play with them. Sometimes they treat me badly, like a toy. Oy vey!
My masters, Ernesto and Estela, don't know that I am extremely observant. They probably think that I only like to eat and sleep. Oy vey! Human beings do not understand animals--especially not us cats.
Every day my masters do the same things. Estela, my mistress, wakes up early and goes to the kitchen to drink this hot black stuff that they all drink every morning. They call it "coffee." After that, my mistress calls to my master, but he always wants to sleep just a little bit longer. So she opens the curtains in the bedroom and lets in a lot of light. "Good God!" shouts my master. "Too much light! I can't open my eyes, Estela!"
Then my master knocks on her daughter Amanda's door, and the girl leaves her room. Amanda always greets her mother like this: "Good morning!" The young woman in this family has no problem with waking up. But Ernestito and Guillermo definitely have problems! Estela goes to their bedroom and wakes them up. They also want to sleep a little bit longer. "Time to go to school!" says my mistress. And the boys slowly wake up.
Ernesto takes a shower, gets dressed, reads the newspaper, drinks that black stuff and says some complicated things that I just don't understand. My mistress and this lady Berta (who does the housework and lives with us) prepare breakfast for the family. They always eat breakfast together. (Mmmmm. These human beings eat so much more than we cats!) Afterward, Ernesto and his kids leave and my mistress stays in the house.
Estela then picks me up and puts me outside, saying, "Go, Manchitas! Go look for mice!" It's really cold in the morning and I don't like to be outside, so I always either find myself a little bit of sunshine or jump at the window. I can see my mistress through the window--she's behind it. She takes a shower, gets dressed, puts on her makeup, makes the bed... every day, the same exact things! Later Berta cleans off the furniture and runs the vacuum. Meow! I really hate that machine!
My mistress goes out with Berta in the afternoon. I think they go to the supermarket, because they come back with food. And I stick around by myself on the patio. I amuse myself by climbing around outside the garden. Ernestito's dog, Lobo, lives in the garden. And in the next house over there is a dog named Sultan. The two dogs jump and jump around to try to get over to me. Ha ha! They can't climb up there--they're too fat! And man, do they bark! Ernestito really likes Sultan; he says he wants him to come live with us. But we already have a dog. Two dogs in the house? Meow!
At night my masters eat and give me the leftovers. After they eat, they go visit the neighbors or take a stroll around the neighborhood. The kids look at this bright thing, something called "television." They really love looking at other human beings on this thing!
At the end of the day, they all go to bed. But me? I give myself a good bath with my little tongue and then go to sleep on the sofa. That's where I am now. Meow! How I hate these fleas!
While this has been a stimulating intellectual exercise, I have to say I'm left feeling very sorry for Manchitas. Her life would be so much more fulfilling if only she lived with me and my moms. For I would teach her how to appreciate the finer things in life, such as UPSTAGING THE TELEVISION and USING FORCE TO AVOID THE OUTDOORS and WAKING UP RECALCITRANT FAMILY MEMBERS.
Then again, I might still not get on well with other cats, and I might not be willing to share my moms (or my food) with Manchitas.
As previously mentioned, I am extremely talented in that I can read with my head or my butt, while I am awake or while I am asleep. Utilizing a combination of these methods, I have taken it upon myself to learn Spanish along with my one mom.
My favorite thing thus far is this exercise from her workbook, in which a cat offers her INCREDIBLE DAILY AUTOBIOGRAPHY:
I will now demonstrate my knowledge of Spanish by translating this passage. Witness my linguistic prowess:
These fleas, these fleas! I'm here on the sofa, extremely bored. This is because my masters do not pay any attention to me. Only the kids in the family, Ernestito and Guillermo, play with me. And I really don't like to play with them. Sometimes they treat me badly, like a toy. Oy vey!
My masters, Ernesto and Estela, don't know that I am extremely observant. They probably think that I only like to eat and sleep. Oy vey! Human beings do not understand animals--especially not us cats.
Every day my masters do the same things. Estela, my mistress, wakes up early and goes to the kitchen to drink this hot black stuff that they all drink every morning. They call it "coffee." After that, my mistress calls to my master, but he always wants to sleep just a little bit longer. So she opens the curtains in the bedroom and lets in a lot of light. "Good God!" shouts my master. "Too much light! I can't open my eyes, Estela!"
Then my master knocks on her daughter Amanda's door, and the girl leaves her room. Amanda always greets her mother like this: "Good morning!" The young woman in this family has no problem with waking up. But Ernestito and Guillermo definitely have problems! Estela goes to their bedroom and wakes them up. They also want to sleep a little bit longer. "Time to go to school!" says my mistress. And the boys slowly wake up.
Ernesto takes a shower, gets dressed, reads the newspaper, drinks that black stuff and says some complicated things that I just don't understand. My mistress and this lady Berta (who does the housework and lives with us) prepare breakfast for the family. They always eat breakfast together. (Mmmmm. These human beings eat so much more than we cats!) Afterward, Ernesto and his kids leave and my mistress stays in the house.
Estela then picks me up and puts me outside, saying, "Go, Manchitas! Go look for mice!" It's really cold in the morning and I don't like to be outside, so I always either find myself a little bit of sunshine or jump at the window. I can see my mistress through the window--she's behind it. She takes a shower, gets dressed, puts on her makeup, makes the bed... every day, the same exact things! Later Berta cleans off the furniture and runs the vacuum. Meow! I really hate that machine!
My mistress goes out with Berta in the afternoon. I think they go to the supermarket, because they come back with food. And I stick around by myself on the patio. I amuse myself by climbing around outside the garden. Ernestito's dog, Lobo, lives in the garden. And in the next house over there is a dog named Sultan. The two dogs jump and jump around to try to get over to me. Ha ha! They can't climb up there--they're too fat! And man, do they bark! Ernestito really likes Sultan; he says he wants him to come live with us. But we already have a dog. Two dogs in the house? Meow!
At night my masters eat and give me the leftovers. After they eat, they go visit the neighbors or take a stroll around the neighborhood. The kids look at this bright thing, something called "television." They really love looking at other human beings on this thing!
At the end of the day, they all go to bed. But me? I give myself a good bath with my little tongue and then go to sleep on the sofa. That's where I am now. Meow! How I hate these fleas!
While this has been a stimulating intellectual exercise, I have to say I'm left feeling very sorry for Manchitas. Her life would be so much more fulfilling if only she lived with me and my moms. For I would teach her how to appreciate the finer things in life, such as UPSTAGING THE TELEVISION and USING FORCE TO AVOID THE OUTDOORS and WAKING UP RECALCITRANT FAMILY MEMBERS.
Then again, I might still not get on well with other cats, and I might not be willing to share my moms (or my food) with Manchitas.
Labels: brains
11:19 PM Eastern Time
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Shake it
My moms have this game that my one mom (with the tasty hair) absolutely loves and my other mom (with the comfy lap) merely tolerates. I understand the difference between loving and merely tolerating. For example: I love PICKING UP SPIDERS AND CARRYING THEM ABOUT THE HOUSE, but I merely tolerate my moms PICKING ME UP AND CARRYING ME ABOUT THE HOUSE. Or, for another example: I love THE SMELL OF TUNA FROM THE CAN, but I merely tolerate NOT BEING ALLOWED TO HAVE ANY.
My mom with the comfy lap has such a great love for my mom with the tasty hair that she merely tolerates this particular game quite frequently. My moms play this game a couple of times a week sometimes. My mom with the comfy lap makes such frustrated noises sometimes that you would think maybe someone was trying to TRIM HER BACK CLAWS.
When my moms play this game, I experience GREAT CONFUSION. They pull out the box and all its parts, and suddenly there is this DIVINE RATTLE that sounds for all the world EXACTLY LIKE MY TREATS. So naturally I come running to the kitchen, thinking I am going to get a handful of crunchy, fishy bits, and each time I am SORELY DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF TREATS and you can bet I make my disappointment audibly apparent.
One time my mom with the comfy lap decided to dump some of the game's parts on the floor. My moms sometimes put little things on the floor, leaves and fruit and such, in an attempt to help me learn that they are not good to eat. This never works. In the middle of the night, I just get so hungry that I seek out all stuff my moms think they've shown me I dislike. I do actually like this stuff. I just humor my moms so that I can barf up stuff all over the house while they sleep. QED.
Anyway, when my mom dumped the game's parts on the floor, I got SO TERRIBLY EXCITED because first there was the DIVINE RATTLE, which means TREATS ARE COMING! And then there were the bits on the floor, which means TREATS ARE HERE! And oh, was I disappointed when the bits on the floor turned out to be LITTLE CUBES OF PLASTIC, which SMELLED LIKE BAGS but were approximately the size of ATOMIC JAWBREAKERS.
I was not pleased with my mom with the comfy lap. So I decided to send her a little reminder about the order of the universe:
My mom with the comfy lap has such a great love for my mom with the tasty hair that she merely tolerates this particular game quite frequently. My moms play this game a couple of times a week sometimes. My mom with the comfy lap makes such frustrated noises sometimes that you would think maybe someone was trying to TRIM HER BACK CLAWS.
When my moms play this game, I experience GREAT CONFUSION. They pull out the box and all its parts, and suddenly there is this DIVINE RATTLE that sounds for all the world EXACTLY LIKE MY TREATS. So naturally I come running to the kitchen, thinking I am going to get a handful of crunchy, fishy bits, and each time I am SORELY DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF TREATS and you can bet I make my disappointment audibly apparent.
One time my mom with the comfy lap decided to dump some of the game's parts on the floor. My moms sometimes put little things on the floor, leaves and fruit and such, in an attempt to help me learn that they are not good to eat. This never works. In the middle of the night, I just get so hungry that I seek out all stuff my moms think they've shown me I dislike. I do actually like this stuff. I just humor my moms so that I can barf up stuff all over the house while they sleep. QED.
Anyway, when my mom dumped the game's parts on the floor, I got SO TERRIBLY EXCITED because first there was the DIVINE RATTLE, which means TREATS ARE COMING! And then there were the bits on the floor, which means TREATS ARE HERE! And oh, was I disappointed when the bits on the floor turned out to be LITTLE CUBES OF PLASTIC, which SMELLED LIKE BAGS but were approximately the size of ATOMIC JAWBREAKERS.
I was not pleased with my mom with the comfy lap. So I decided to send her a little reminder about the order of the universe:
7:58 PM Eastern Time
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Back to school
Both of my moms are headed to school these days. My one mom, with the comfy lap, was merely on summer break. My other mom, with the tasty hair, decided to go back to school and learn a new language. Now she is learning to go on about how LA GATA ES MUY LOCA and POR FAVOR NO COMER EL PELO. Some things never change.
I figure it's time for me to go back to school too. I could learn all kinds of interesting things, like horticulture, culinary arts, or cosmetology. It's getting kind of boring just staring at the floors and the walls, day in and day out.
Cats are supposed to be extremely curious, but I prefer to think of myself as a VERY STUDIOUS CREATURE.
I figure it's time for me to go back to school too. I could learn all kinds of interesting things, like horticulture, culinary arts, or cosmetology. It's getting kind of boring just staring at the floors and the walls, day in and day out.
Cats are supposed to be extremely curious, but I prefer to think of myself as a VERY STUDIOUS CREATURE.
Labels: brains
12:05 AM Eastern Time
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Devouring knowledge
My one mom, with the comfy lap, reads a lot of BIG HEAVY BOOKS.
I like to read books too. I do it by osmosis. Feline osmotic reading works both ways--I can read with my butt or with my head. My moms can only read with their eyes. I can even read while I'm asleep. My moms can't do that either. Thus once again we see the SUPERIORITY OF THE FELINE RACE.
My mom with the tasty hair doesn't really read big heavy books anymore. She mostly reads little lightweight ones. She also doesn't read stapled stacks of paper anymore, either. Apparently this is because she got some new letters after her name, which she says stand for DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY but which I think really ought to stand for PLEASE HAVE DINNER. My mom with the comfy lap is trying to get those letters too, which means she has a lot of big heavy books to read.
I try to help my mom with the comfy lap keep her books open. My mom with the comfy lap does not appreciate this. She uses a sand-filled lizard instead. My butt would have done just fine, but no. The lizard gets to read stuff through its belly, and meanwhile MY EDUCATION IS SUFFERING.
Of course, the only logical thing to do in this case is to SUCK KNOWLEDGE OUT OF THE LIZARD'S TAIL.
My mom with the comfy lap does not appreciate this either. She says Guadeloupe (such is the lizard's name, as such reads a big stamp on its belly) appreciates it even less.
I think Guadeloupe is being awfully selfish. I mean, I groom my moms, act as their alarm clock, and (usually) clean up after myself, and what does this Guadeloupe do? Lie around like a sandbag all day, and get FREE TUITION BESIDES.
Higher education is NOT FAIR.
I like to read books too. I do it by osmosis. Feline osmotic reading works both ways--I can read with my butt or with my head. My moms can only read with their eyes. I can even read while I'm asleep. My moms can't do that either. Thus once again we see the SUPERIORITY OF THE FELINE RACE.
My mom with the tasty hair doesn't really read big heavy books anymore. She mostly reads little lightweight ones. She also doesn't read stapled stacks of paper anymore, either. Apparently this is because she got some new letters after her name, which she says stand for DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY but which I think really ought to stand for PLEASE HAVE DINNER. My mom with the comfy lap is trying to get those letters too, which means she has a lot of big heavy books to read.
I try to help my mom with the comfy lap keep her books open. My mom with the comfy lap does not appreciate this. She uses a sand-filled lizard instead. My butt would have done just fine, but no. The lizard gets to read stuff through its belly, and meanwhile MY EDUCATION IS SUFFERING.
Of course, the only logical thing to do in this case is to SUCK KNOWLEDGE OUT OF THE LIZARD'S TAIL.
My mom with the comfy lap does not appreciate this either. She says Guadeloupe (such is the lizard's name, as such reads a big stamp on its belly) appreciates it even less.
I think Guadeloupe is being awfully selfish. I mean, I groom my moms, act as their alarm clock, and (usually) clean up after myself, and what does this Guadeloupe do? Lie around like a sandbag all day, and get FREE TUITION BESIDES.
Higher education is NOT FAIR.
Labels: brains, household items
7:49 PM Eastern Time
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Because
I seem to have a bit of a cult following. I only have a very small cult, but how many cats can say they have a cult following in the first place? Anyway, it is good to know that I am not the only one who knows HOW VERY CHARISMATIC I AM.
Some of my cult members have asked my moms why I don't write blog entries more often. I don't know why they don't ask me directly, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that PEOPLE DO NOT UNDERSTAND MEOWING. Well, I take that back. People are fairly good at identifying "Where's my breakfast?" and "Where's my dinner?" and "Oh my God I am SO TERRIBLY LOST and EVERYTHING LOOKS DIFFERENT and WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU and oh never mind I was just kidding about that, everything's fine."
In any event, I think I should explain why I do not write as many blog entries as the average human blogger. It has absolutely nothing to do with my LACK OF OPPOSABLE THUMBS.
Some of my cult members have asked my moms why I don't write blog entries more often. I don't know why they don't ask me directly, but perhaps it has something to do with the fact that PEOPLE DO NOT UNDERSTAND MEOWING. Well, I take that back. People are fairly good at identifying "Where's my breakfast?" and "Where's my dinner?" and "Oh my God I am SO TERRIBLY LOST and EVERYTHING LOOKS DIFFERENT and WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU and oh never mind I was just kidding about that, everything's fine."
In any event, I think I should explain why I do not write as many blog entries as the average human blogger. It has absolutely nothing to do with my LACK OF OPPOSABLE THUMBS.
Blogging just REALLY WEARS ME OUT.
Labels: brains
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.
