As time went on though Kylie would not.let.up. about the damn cat. She was CONSTANTLY begging for it, even though we told her to wait until after summer since the plan was for her to travel and go to camp. Except then she didn't do either of those things. Then her BFF's slut cat (not my words, theirs) had 3 kittens. Kylie of course fell in love with one of them and they told her she could have him for free. Gee. Thanks Iron Maiden flag waving, meth-daddy looking, trailer park dwellers. That's swell.
So we now have a approximately 10 week old kitten in our house. Micah and he are the only signs of testosterone in the house and frankly, there are days where both of them need to escape from all the women in house. Micah luckily has a computer and while he may be furry, he just isn't as small and portable as the cat. So that means the cat has to be carried around and held and I'm surprised it even knows how to walk because between Kylie and Lulu he gets carried everywhere. Whether he wants to be there or not. (And generally, he does NOT)
This weekend he found me in my room
Lulu then found her way into my room, her "kittysense" tingling. I asked her not to bother the cat
Yes. That really is my belly. I have a baby in there. Or maybe watermelon.
In any case, I can't help it.
Lulu feel asleep within moments. I lingered there, watching my riveting program on possibly the Science of Science or the Speed of Light for about 30 minutes and then moved the cat to my right side where he continued to snooze, safe from sticky fingers trying to carry him around by the neck, and moved Lulu to her own bed. She stayed there all night without a peep.
It is my favorite memory of the weekend. Peace and quiet.
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