It's hard to know how much tapas to get

My oldest son is obsessed with cats. He's carried around a stuffed grey and white kitty cat (named Taargus - by me, because I'm nuts) since he could carry things around. For a couple of years, it was always tucked under his arm, while he'd be playing with his toys. It's pretty mangy at this point. I've tried washing it, and it does nothing to improve Taargus' appearance. The poor thing, its neck looks broken and its demeanor appears to be cheerful dejection.

"Call the police."

At this point, my son is five, so he only keeps kitty cat around for bed time - but if you were to ask him about kitty cat, he would inform you that he is a "cyoot kyitty" and then kiss his kitty's face.

There are stray cats near his school - two of them are very friendly and let us pet them. I know, I know. I'm letting my children touch stray cats. I can feel your eyes on me. I can't help it. They're named Stanley and Stella and they love us, without having ever been fed by us.

My point for bringing this all up is that we were waiting at a doctor's appointment when he started asking me about a kitten he'd seen on television.

him: Why was that kitty eating rocks?
me: He was actually eating his litter, because he's stupid and thought it was food.
him: What's litter?
me: It's where kitty cats who live inside go to the bathroom.
him: What would happen if he was eating next to his poop?
me: God. when is this appointment going to be over?
him: What would happen if he was eating next to his poop?
me: You have to scoop the poop out after they go.
him: No. You'll have to do that.
me: No way man, it's your kitty, why should I scoop its poop?
him: Yeah, I'm not going to do that.
me: Well, neither am I. We should have daddy do it.
him: Okay.

I'm glad we have that settled.

~~~~~

husband: So let me get this straight. You're saying that you're going to burp, and that burp is going to not only be heard by everyone on earth, but it will also force them all to come here?
5-year-old: Yes.
me: His burp is the new Mecca.


me: Hey you, come here. I have to tell you something.
5-year-old: Yeah?
me: One day, your teeth are going to fall out.
5-year-old: What, dad? ... mom?
me: One day your teeth are going to fall out.
5-year-old: Which day?
me: I don't know the exact day. But did you know that already, that your teeth will fall out?
5-year-old: Yeah.
me: Who told you?
5-year-old: You did.
me: So you found out just now?
5-year-old: Yeah. *runs off*
me: Wait, there's more.
5-year-old: *runs back*
me: New teeth will grow back in their place.
5-year-old: Oh! Great! *runs off*

~~~~~

I dreamed ...

that I was an excellent swimming improvisationalist.

that I worked back in my old office, but my original cubicle was taken, so I asked Kayne West if he minded if I sat in his cubicle with him and he was totally cool with it. I later realized that two cubicles which used to be occupied by claims reps were now blocked off and had gorillas in them. We'd need to hand them stuff like files or pieces of fruit, but had to be really careful because they'd sometimes try to swing at you.

that I had two foot long string bean nipples.

that I was playing with an ex-boyfriend's tiny baby, when I declared, "this cat is the only book I need!"

~~~~~

I discovered that I get a lot of spam comments on my blog. So I put some of thems quotes on pictures. It's really not any more complicated than that.

My face when I read that.

The rhymes must flow.

I will be there with a small turd on my head.

I dated a guy who looked a lot like this dude, but he never smiled when I tried to crush him. Not fair.

Now you all know about my tragically short tongue.

They don't pay those HOA fees for nuthin', kid.

Oh yeah, I'm definitely going to click that link.

He really does look like he's been boiling in a bag.

Start with a kitty, end with a kitty. That's my motto.

.