The trouble with living with sisters is this: I can take ’em or leave ’em… most of the time because most of the time, they give me… no, let me rephrase, they know I’m the Mancat of this room and they know better than to mess with me. I’m serious here. Do not mess with the Mancat while he is snoozing. *Mom! Can we get that needlepointed on a pillow somewhere? Pronto!*
… because I don’t think anyone wants this mug all up in their face should someone, some… sister decide to play games with me. Just say no, sisters. Got it? I’m the head honcho in this room, the big dog, the big cheese, if you will. Okay? Okay then. Now, I’m off to survey my land.
Yep, there he goes. That tough Mancat… with a toy on his tail!
What? Huh? Don’t know a thing about any orange curly swirly toy on my brother’s tail.
Yeah, yeah! What she said! Who would be so bold as to do such a dastardly thing? *wink wink*