Four-year-old brain vs. 38-year-old brain. You decide.
Mark’s father died in March 2003. He left behind a great many things, and a great many of those things made their way to our home. There were chairs and pictures and prints and a couple of giant ceramic leopards (oh yes – they are in our basement if you must know, and if I continue to get my way, there they shall stay) and dishes and other artifacts.
What there was not much of was clothing. My father-in-law's wardrobe was oh? About two decades out of date. Maybe more.
However, there was one item of his father’s that Mark loved: a suede jacket. It looked brand new and being one of those timeless items that never really goes out of style, he took it back with him and has gotten very good use out of it.
Last Saturday, we left for the afternoon. Being chillier than it’s been, Mark decided to forgo the suede jacket for something warmer and left it lying on the pool table.
Upon our return that evening, we discovered that the cat had puked on the pool table. On the jacket. Right in the dead center of the back of it.
Now, I have to admit that in a 2,000-something square-foot house, 85 percent of which is covered with hardwood floors, it is somewhat remarkable that the cat puked right there. I mean, I know she didn’t do it on purpose, but come on!?
Mark was understandably upset, cursing the cat out of frustration. I believe her untimely death may have been wished for.
The next day, Peanut walked up to me as I sat at my desk.
Peanut: Mommy? Did BadCat throw up on Daddy’s jacket?
Me: Yes, she did.
Peanut: Why?
Me: Well, I don’t know, maybe she had a lot of fur in her tummy from cleaning herself.
Peanut: And that gave her a tummy ache?
Me: Yes, that can happen to cats sometimes.
She silently mulled the situation over for a few seconds.
“You know, Mommy,” she said very seriously, “if Daddy had just picked up his jacket and hung it up with the others, that never would have happened.”
Heh.
So I gave her a huge hug then walked her straight into the kitchen and gave her a cookie. I firmly believe that type of thought process must be rewarded.
What there was not much of was clothing. My father-in-law's wardrobe was oh? About two decades out of date. Maybe more.
However, there was one item of his father’s that Mark loved: a suede jacket. It looked brand new and being one of those timeless items that never really goes out of style, he took it back with him and has gotten very good use out of it.
Last Saturday, we left for the afternoon. Being chillier than it’s been, Mark decided to forgo the suede jacket for something warmer and left it lying on the pool table.
Upon our return that evening, we discovered that the cat had puked on the pool table. On the jacket. Right in the dead center of the back of it.
Now, I have to admit that in a 2,000-something square-foot house, 85 percent of which is covered with hardwood floors, it is somewhat remarkable that the cat puked right there. I mean, I know she didn’t do it on purpose, but come on!?
Mark was understandably upset, cursing the cat out of frustration. I believe her untimely death may have been wished for.
The next day, Peanut walked up to me as I sat at my desk.
Peanut: Mommy? Did BadCat throw up on Daddy’s jacket?
Me: Yes, she did.
Peanut: Why?
Me: Well, I don’t know, maybe she had a lot of fur in her tummy from cleaning herself.
Peanut: And that gave her a tummy ache?
Me: Yes, that can happen to cats sometimes.
She silently mulled the situation over for a few seconds.
“You know, Mommy,” she said very seriously, “if Daddy had just picked up his jacket and hung it up with the others, that never would have happened.”
Heh.
So I gave her a huge hug then walked her straight into the kitchen and gave her a cookie. I firmly believe that type of thought process must be rewarded.
Labels: Adventures in Parenting, Domestic bliss, NaBloPoMo, The Darndest Things
posted by Kimberly at
5:09 PM
5 Comments:
Oh kitties are funny. My old black kitty Sadie used to pee on the suitcases 'cause she knew what they meant.
As for the jacket, get a good suede eraser thingy or some Second Wind from Foot Locker.
He shoulda hung the darned thing up. Out of the mouths of babes.
Our cats are the same way... all that tiled floor... but nooooo if they wanna puke they have to get up on the bed and puke on my dry clean only totally ar to expensive duvet.... Damn cats!
What a totally cute out of the mouths of babes thing though!
Peeing in suitcases. Check.
Puking, anywhere but on the tiles of the kitchen floor. Check.
And yes, indeed, if it had hung where it was supposed to be hanging, it would never have happened.
So damn recognizable!!!
But what a clever little Peanut you have there!
Haha! Your kid is being groomed to gripe. That's beautiful.
Our cats always found a way to puke exactly where we didn't want them to do it... like next to the bed where we would step into the cold, murky, slippery slop. Ah, pets.
Ah, I can totally understand Mark's frustration! Although, I would have cried. Since my father passed I have had an unnatural attachment to things that were his. I get pretty darn PO'd when someone touches, moves, or uses some item that I claimed from him. My father built me this huge wooden dollhouse (think the size of the Whitehouse) and I actually cried when my brother "suggested" that I give it to his daughters. Not completely rational but there you have it!
Dam cat! Is there any way to salvage it?
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