The ten-year-old child, of punctual wit fame, dropped a couple more greats.
After spending hours working on a story for her composition class, she said to me, “Mom, do you know why I don’t have a tail anymore?”
The best response in these situations, I’ve learned, is to not say anything beyond simply, “Why?”“Because I wrote it off.”
There are many things I’d like to write off, too, kid.
Then one for her history-loving father:
The neighbor’s cat sometimes comes to our door for some good behind the ear scratching and maybe the occasional snacking. I grew up with a cat just like this one, so of course I indulge it terribly.
But when it was finally time for it to go, it didn’t want to. (Can we blame it?) I closed the screen door, but it stood there staring at me longingly (again, can we blame it?) and mewing pitifully.
“I have nothing more to give you, Kitty,” I said. I tried reasoning with it, but for some unknown reason we had a communications break down.
Then my daughter said, “This cat, like Hitler, cannot be appeased.”
We are so proud.
And because you’re all wondering what became of the cat, my husband finally stepped in. He shut the glass door and the curtain. The cat took the hint. I thanked my husband, once again, for being the heavy.
The next time the cat comes over (probably tonight) we can huddle together in the corner with some milk and sliced turkey and complain about what a meany my husband is. I’m sure the language barrier won’t be a problem.