Wordsworth: Hey Mama, what are you putting into that bag?
Me: A swimsuit and a change of clothes. Daughter and I are going to see some friends at their family’s lake house.
Wordsworth: I don’t think I know what a lake is but I can’t wait to find out!
Me: Sorry buddy, but we can’t bring you with us. Maybe another time.
Wordsworth: Oh. I see how it is. So I’m just gonna go ahead and stare at you pathetically through the window as you back out of the driveway. We’ll see how much you’ll enjoy your trip to the lake WITHOUT ME.
Son: Sheesh, it’s like something out of a horror story. “The house has been abandoned for years, but on fine summer days, people still see the ghost of a yellow lab staring sadly out the window at them.”
[Today’s talking cat story is a guest post written by my son. The events below transpired last night after we had all gone to bed. If you like it, be sure to comment and let him know! — Kari]
Sir Oliver: I desire petting. *walks into Son’s room* Oh. My servant is asleep. I shall wake him. *begins prodding son’s face*
Son: Zzzzzzzxxxnnxx *wakes up* Huh?
Sir Oliver: Oh, good, you are awake. I require a massage.
Son: Dude! It’s 11pm.
Sir Oliver: Time is a social construct invented by humans to avoid their responsibilities towards their feline overlords.
Son: Whatever. I’m going back to sleep.
Sir Oliver: This is outrageous. I will be filing a complaint with the Feline Overlords Union.
Son: Good luck with that. Zzzzzzzz.
Sir Oliver: Hmph. Just for that, I am going to leave a hairball right here where you will step in it when you wake up.
Wordsworth: Hi Mama, whatcha doin?
Me: Putting on my shoes.
Wordsworth: Oh! Well you don’t need two hands for that. You could be petting me with at least one of those hands.
Me: Actually no, I really need both hands to tie my…
Wordsworth: *pushes face in between my hands*
Wordsworth: *puppydog eyes*
Me: I guess I should get some slip-on shoes.
Emerson: Mama, may I be on the bed with you?
Wordsworth: Great idea! I’ll come up there with you too! Hey! This bed is kind of lumpy!
This weekend we got adopted by a dog.
When we met him at the shelter, he kept going back to Ian. He liked everybody, but Ian was clearly his favorite, and he got along with Emerson too, which is obviously essential.
Emerson: What are you doing, Mama?
Me: Drawing cartoons.
Emerson: You really like drawing don’t you?
Me: Yes, I do. I especially like drawing animals. It makes me happy.
Emerson: Maybe you should draw pictures for other people too, so you can be happy drawing and they can be happy looking at cartoons of their own pets.