It’s a Cat’s World


My friends, this blog is in serious trouble.


Husband and I—the people you’ve come to rely on as your semi-weekly sources of wit and dazzling conversation—are getting to be really really astonishingly boring.

A young couple sits side-by-side, drinks at the ready, looking away from each other with bored expressions.



I’m serious.  You think it’s all clever quips (me)  and hot sex and the odd stupid joke (him) but honestly, some nights we’ve got nothing to talk about but the cat.


Closeup of the greenish-blue hazel eyes of one fluffy orange cat, possibly a miniature lion.

I mean, can you blame us?


Good thing that cat is Alexander Hamilton, but still!


ME:  He has the fluffiest butt.
HIM:  (noise)
ME:  What?
HIM:  Nothing.
ME:  Have you seen it?  His butt is so fluffy!
HIM:  I’m sure, but I’m not so sure you can make that claim—that he’s got the fluffiest butt in the whole world.  I mean, have you actually seen all the other butts?
ME:  Yes.
HIM:  You’ve seen every butt in the world?
ME:  I did a google search for fluffy butts.
HIM:  And how’d that work out for you?
ME:  Not well.  But I did my research.



I’m concerned we’re turning into one of those boring old couples who, instead of talking about the weather or how they don’t sell gum by the piece or whatever weird-ass candy we’ve suddenly remembered and why doesn’t anything cost a nickel anymore, are turning to each other and rhapsodizing about the cat.

beauty shot of one fluffy orange cat, possibly a miniature lion; the tag on his collar reads, "Alexander Hamilton" and he is EXCEPTIONALLY handsome.

A rich topic, to be sure.



Is this Phase One?  Will we eventually move on to dressing up in high-wasted pants and orthopedic shoes to shuffle around the mall in search of the perfect hand-scooped ice cream?  Because I haven’t even tried that dragon’s breath stuff yet, or the rolled ice cream (there’s a place in the Galleria that does it, but the line is always crazy and it’s so close to Starbucks that I’m always like, okay, but… the green tea frap with a pump of raspberry is a proven winner!) and I’m not sure I’m ready to chuck it all to grumble about music today and wonder why Offspring never calls anymore—he still calls!




ME:  So what’s up?
OFFSPRING:  I hate everything.  We’re understaffed, undertrained, underequipped…
ME:  Welcome to the army, Private Squdgee Booboo.
ME:  (sighs)  Yes, Alexander Hamilton, I’m talking to Private Squdgee Booboo.
A. HAM: (produces rumbling noise that can be heard by neighbors)
OFFSPRING:  Awwww!  He is the best cat.
ME:  Yes.  So any—
OFFSPRING:  Did you give him kisses for me?
ME:  (sighs)


Fluffy orange cat, paw fisted under chin, probably thinking about cuddles

(ponders how best to abuse his popularity)







3 comments on “It’s a Cat’s World

  1. josypheen says:

    I mean, cats *are* the best topic of conversation…I think this is all okay!

    Liked by 1 person

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