. . . and furthermore, Mother, while I appreciate your woefully sorry effort at finding a suitable napping box to replace our favorite one, the smattering you’ve attempted to woo us with lately leaves me wondering if you have a brain. At all.
Sometimes, this is the type of conversation Pia wants to start the very minute Mom’s leaving for work in the morning.
It’s too bright in here, Dad. Where was all this sunshine last month when it was raining every day? I don’t think I like this.
It’s spring, Quint. And you’ll have to get used to it because there’s a whole lot more sunshine on the way. June starts tomorrow and we’re in for at least four or five months of bright sun. Time for a summer of living in your dark blanket fort, right?
Good bye May. You were a pretty good month. Only one hot week and a good amount of rain. Tell June to take it easy on us this year, okay?
2023 – Bonkers 2022 – No post 2021 – No post 2020 – No post 2019 – No post 2018 – No post 2017 – Black and White Wednesday 2016 – No post 2015 – No post 2014 – No post 2013 – That Girl! 2012 – No post
Mom, I wouldn’t go into the kitchen if I were you if you value your ears. I’m not tattling exactly, but someone’s doing something they’re not supposed to do. Someone else has a problem with that and they’re really loud with their complaint.
Tell her she can’t do that, Mom! She’d being a bad cat and a bad influence on us good cats who would never do such a thing. Everyone knows not to do that and there she is. Don’t let her get away with it, Mom. Tell her she’s a bad cat!
The rule from forever ago is that no cat is allowed on the stove top. Ever. Everyone knows this. Tessa knows this and yet, after 12 years of living here and abiding by the rule, here we are. You supposed Tessa just woke up this morning and thought, “Today, I’m going to lay on the stove top.”?
