Hello, People of the Internets, Obi here.
Oliver would be mad if he knew I was telling you this story, but I think you should know what a great Chief Executive Kitten he is.
I think we’ve mentioned that we named Squeak to hastily. His name should have been Scream. He screams all the time. All. The. Time.
Usually it’s a happy scream and The Girl encourages the behavior by laughing and screaming back. It’s a very noisy house we live in. I sit through it because it’s my job to supervise. Oliver goes upstairs when Squeak is awake, unless they’re training – Oli says the pets are coming along. But the screaming hurts our ears.
There’s also the hungry screams at night. This scream makes our tummies rumble. Oliver always makes sure to tell The Girl that we are also hungry. Sometimes we get fed. Sometimes it is too early, like if The Girl and The Boy are still reading when Squeak cries. Then it makes The Girl crabby when Oliver tells her we could also go for breakfast. Particularly if she doesn’t seem to hear him so he gets up near the almost asleep baby and yells it.
Then there’s the worst cry. The frustrated, I’m all alone in the world, sad cry. We all hate this cry. Luckily it doesn’t happen too much. I try to CAT scan him to determine if there’s anything I can do to help.
Sometimes Oliver steps in.
Like a couple weeks ago when he knocked Squeak over. Actually, there’s some debate over this. Oli thinks it was his fault. The Girl says the baby shouldn’t have let go of the wall to grab his kitten. Either way, Squeak fell and hit his head on the wall.
Oliver ran out of the room.
At first I thought he was running because we were going to get in trouble. But he was back in an instant. The Girl was on the floor with the baby and Oli came in and tucked one of his milk rings between them. In case you don’t know, there is no greater gift from my brother.
Squeak is also a fan of milk rings. He was soon consoled and distracted.
Oliver has tried this technique a couple more times and it always works. Unlike my piano playing which is sometimes appreciated and sometimes not.
This morning, Squeak was having a my-world-is-ending cry over his diaper change. He really hates first thing in the morning diaper changes and The Girl tries to give him a little time to wake up before she does them. But let me tell you, today’s was what they call “a doozy.” I could smell it from the living room.
So, as I was saying, Squeak was screaming. A lot. There were tears and a red face and no way was I going in because there was nothing I could do. The Girl was on her own. Except… Then The Boy also headed in. But that was not enough.
Oliver rushed past me with a milk ring. He tossed the ring into the waiting clean diaper, tucked his ears down as he made eye contact with The Girl, and rushed back out.
The Boy and Squeak played with the milk ring. There was still crying. Some shuddering gulps. A swiftly diapering Girl.
But that horrible screaming stopped.
Oliver has the golden ticket, folks. And it’s a blue plastic ring.
Later, peoples,
Obi me-out