How long does it take a tall grey kitten to pull a plate of cheesecake off the counter? Not long enough for me to run upstairs to open the windows.
Whose fault is it that he doesn’t like cheesecake? Mine, evidently.
And now, a note from Oliver:
This morning, at around 2 a.m., I figured out the key to world peace. The solution was so simple and it would also solve the world’s hunger problems AND bring back unicorns.
Obviously, I wanted to share this news with the people right away.
I jumped to the toothbrush stand and called my discovery to the ceiling. The Boy rolled over. The Girl did nothing. I went closer because maybe she couldn’t hear me.
Sitting on the floor by the bed, I called out my news again. I could tell she was awake but she still did nothing. She didn’t even open her eyes. I think this is part of what she was telling The Boy about “not offering positive reinforcement” when I have something important to say in the morning. Whatever THAT means. All I know is that she used to show me that she agreed with me by saying “SSSH!” And now she doesn’t.
Since I know she’s not getting stupider, I think she’s just agreeing silently. We’ve transcended words…which is good because her accent is horrible.
I snuggled up to The Girl and she stroked my head. I forgot about my discovery and dozed off for a minute. But then it hit me! Breakfast! Of course the people would be more interested in this type of conversation over a meal.
I sprang to my feet and invited The Girl to feed me. Awake, but unresponsive. So I poked her in the nose. About twenty times. Nothing.
I stomped over her and onto The Boy. He grunted. Then nothing. And The Girl did nothing. This is weird because The Girl is really protective of The Boy – he is, after all, one of her pack. She takes good care of all of us. And he’s hopeless compared to Obi and me.
After a long effort, trying to get the people up to hear my ideas, I was exhausted and succumbed to sleep.
The breakfast bell went off. I told The Girl, as we went downstairs, that I had a brilliant idea. She called me a whineybutt. So did The Boy. I assume this is a term for geniuses or pioneers.
After breakfast I met The Girl on the couch for post-breakfast snuggle. At last, I would be able to tell her my idea.
But I forgot.