from dust bunnies to samsquanches

on foiling a feline revolution.

The felines who share my home and I are at odds.

It’s not yet hatred.

Though if I do not find a way to appease my betters, I may begin to fear for my safety.

The issue at hand?

I have been denying them a few of their few true pleasures.

we loves to killz ze birdies, we wants to eats ze eyeballs, death to ze sofa, kill scratch kill!

Worst of all?

I have been denying them card board boxes. This denies them the opportunity to do their favourite thing and speak their favorite phrase:

If we fits, we sits

In our home the division of labour if not entirely equal, is at least clear. Everyone else brings things into the house. I make things go away. My superpower? Cleaning the fridge. Decluttering. Finding things people have forgotten, left behind and are almost done with but haven’t gone the full way.

One of such things was the box my son’s new soccer cleats came in. Well. They are now four months old. The box? It’s moved. It gets moved constantly by the cats.

dis our home. dis our bervwright. if we fi…