I came home from work today to find the cats arduously
working on a project. They had assembled
a stick, some string and a plain white kitchen towel in the living room.
“Human with opposable thumbs who provides sustenance!”
called my youngest (Button) when I arrived on the scene. “You must tie that towel to that pole. Do it. Do it.
Do it NOW!”
“For simplicity, you can call me Mom. Ummm, why am I doing this?” I asked as I crouched down and began tying knots.
My eldest (S.A.M.) looked at me sheepishly and said, “We
need a flag of surrender for when you are killing the duck.”
I walked over to my practice chanter and picked it up, “You
mean when I’m practicing?”
They jumped back, arched their backs and hissed.
“Well, my supportive felines,” I said as I sat on the couch,
“you have a reprieve. Until Friday. Remember yesterday after practice when I
curled up on the couch holding my jaw? I
need a root canal and it’s scheduled for Thursday.”
“Oh, thank God,” said S.A.M., purring against my leg. “What are we going to do between now and
then? Quietly read a book? Watch TV? Learn to knit?"
"You know," I said to the assembly, "Generally when one speaks of a root canal, they get sympathy and understanding of the pain that is involved."
The single tracked minded Button looks at the half made flag and says, “Yeah, so “MOM”, about
that flag we’re gonna need….”
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