September 23, 2010

Today, I ate five prawns. This is a record.

I think it is a sign of contentment.

The Mushroom is happy. Properly, singing-in-the-shower happy. I’d forgotten she could do that, be happy.  Who’d have thought that all she needed was a) a house that has windows, b) people and c) a dishwasher.

I like the window bit too. I’m indifferent to the dishwasher. I’m well pissed off about the people.

People keep coming round. And these people have children. It’s as much as I can manage with the one we have living in our house all the time, and even my Dad took ages to acclimatize, as this conversation from the Early Days demonstrates:

 “I can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

 “The light. THE LIGHT!”

“It’s a frigging star night light from Ikea. It’s 5 watts. Shut up.”

 “It’s like trying to rest under the Eye of Sauron.”

“I can’t turn it off. If I turn it off I can’t see the baby.” 

My Dad gets out of bed, stomps about in the kitchen opening cupboards and closing them, then returns brandishing something for The Mushroom.

“When you want to see The Baby, just shine this torch on her.”

“SHINE A TORCH ON HER? We’re not paramilitaries.”

Anyhoo, the house is being invaded. By Talking Small People.

“Could you just close the door for me, please? I’m scared of cats.” said  Talking Small Person as she entered my house. She’s two and a half. TWO AND A HALF. I’m pretty certain you’re just supposed to be able to make mooing sounds or something at two and a half, not ask for the door to be shut.

“Oh, it’s only Zeebies.”, said The Baby.

This reply, I take issue with on MANY LEVELS.

Firstly, Baby, let me point out to you that you have no hair.  People with no hair have no business using the word ‘only’ (by this I mean people who have not yet grown hair, not the prematurely balding or the just maturely balding. They can use the word ‘only’ as much as they like, and probably do, as in, ‘If only I had hair.’). You may be freakishly tall and have giant, puppy feet, but you have no hair.

Secondly, ‘it’s only Zeebies?’ ONLY Zeebies? So Talking Small Person may be scared of cats, but she has no need to be scared of me?  Do I not count as a cat, or I am such a pathetic specimen that I simply don’t cause fear in the young? Cos I’ll have you know, baldy, that I’m FEROCIOUS and also black and black cats are well scary.

And thirdly, why do I get locked out of my house by Small People? The fact that I had voluntarily gone outside and was sitting in the garden is irrelevant. I’m pretty certain you wouldn’t like it if I invited a load of my cat mates round and then turned to you and said, ‘Oh, sorry, Baby – we’re scared of children. They make a lot of noise, are unpredictable and then make a load of fuss when we scratch them. Just sit outside for a bit whilst we talk about Purina Party Mix, would you? There’s a love.’

They shut the door. I snuck back in through the window. IN YOUR FACE.

And this is why I ate five prawns today. I may be indifferent to the dishwasher, and pissed off about the people, but I properly, hugely, love windows.


3 Responses to “”

  1. notwavingbutironing said

    Five prawns! Go, Zeebs, go! You are a very funny cat. By the way, tell your dad that ‘It’s like trying to rest under the eye of Sauron’ is a genius line, and even though he may be a Wendy when it comes to bedroom lighting, he sounds very funny too. Now go and sit up a tree or something.

  2. mrs emo said

    I got to “IN YOUR FACE” and then laughed so hard that my tea almost came out of my nose.

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