I’ll be the first to admit I have the potential to become a crazy cat lady. We have two very diva-tastic cats (Yeah, it’s a word, deal with it). If we didn’t like in military housing we would probably have several more pets. Husband wants a Rhodesian Ridgeback and I really want a pit bull. Eventually we’ll get our dogs, but with how much we move and the frequency of military family housing being apartments, we’re sticking with cats for now. They are very much convinced that they run this house and we are merely here to feed them and clean their litter box. I mean, look at them:
They seem to be under the mistaken impression that: running across the bed at full speed at 3 AM is a good idea, waking dad up at 5 AM on his day off is a good idea, dragging every errant sock they can find into the litter box is appropriate, all food that comes out of the kitchen is either for them or to be shared with them, and about a hundred other really obnoxious things. They’re cats. They’re kind of assholes by definition.
But then, every once in a while, they do something so damned cute or funny that they remind me why we adopted them in the first place.
Like loving on Husband’s guns:
Loving on each other:
Or loving on us:
They also seem to only want attention when I’m tying to cook or doing my homework or trying to eat dinner. Have you ever seen that episode of Family Guy where Stewie is trying to get Lois’s attention? There’s about a full minute of “Mom, Mom, MOM, Mommy, Ma, Mom!” before Lois finally says “WHAT?” “Hi!” *giggles and runs off*. I think sometimes, that’s what my cats are doing. They’ll wander around the house meowing at the top of their tiny lungs until one of us finally hollers “WHAT are you bitching about?” To which we get one more tiny “mew” and they run off.
And in this respect, they’re exactly like children. I’m pretty vocal about the fact that I’m glad I only have nieces and nephews. They’re awesome, I get to play with them and hang out and have fun, but as soon as they start acting like assholes (as kids usually do), it’s not my problem and I can walk away! Sometimes I think that maybe I want kids, but then I remember that I’m an inherently selfish person; I like being able to do what I want, when I want, with no other considerations. I love having disposable income and being able to buy electronics and video games and waste money going to dinner at fancy restaurants. And you can’t really do that when you have kids. At least, not on a soldier’s salary. Once you have kids, everything changes and you are no longer the priority in your own life. That’s the way it should be, please don’t think I’m advocating for neglecting your children or anything. But right now, Husband and I are the priorities in our lives. And I like that.
Honestly, I’m very lucky. The nephews that I get to see the most often are, in general, very well behaved boys. They’re 6 and 7 right now and while they have their moments, they’re not bad kids. They don’t try to kill each other, they don’t set the house on fire or start fistfights/riots at school. They’re just rowdy, high energy boys. They were over last night with my sister and my brother in law and saw a gas range cooktop for the first time and were legitimatly concerned that the fire would “burn the whole house down” if there wasn’t a pan on the stove. It was kind of cute. They’re also super affectionate. They’re great kids. Monkey 1 (G) and Monkey 2 (T) are a trip. They’re so weird and they’ve got this attitude and aptitude for sarcasm that I didn’t develop until I was a teenager. It’s hilarious to see on kids so young, but it’s one of those thing that you don’t really want to laugh because you shouldn’t encourage it. They were down here visiting a couple of months ago and T was doing something that was pissing his dad off. They were out in front of my house and G and I were sitting on the porch when all this went down. Brother starts lecturing T about not doing stupid shit and G turns around, looks at me, points at them and squeaks out “Awkward!” I laughed so fucking hard I thought I was going to pee.
Speaking of funny shit, Husband almost had a heart attack earlier this week. He noticed a bottle of prenatal vitamins on the counter. Now, I’m not pregnant. I’m not trying to get pregnant. I’ve been taking prenatal vitamins for years. The only difference between prenatal and a regular women’s daily multivitamin is the amount of folate, or folic acid in them. Folic acid is really good for your skin, hair and nails. And buying prenatal vitamins is easier than finding a folate supplement and cheaper that buying both a multivitamin and folate. But the look on his face when he noticed the bottle was hilarious. Evidentially, he hasn’t noticed that I’ve had them in the house the entire time we’ve been together…