On our walks to the mailbox, the neighbor’s cat, Callie, comes out to greet us with a meow. I respond in kind.
Callie often accompanies us the rest of the way to the mailbox, but today, she stopped short.
“You coming, Kitty?” Joe asked.
She merely looked at him.
“Mom, ask Kitty if coming,” he said in his sweet two-year-old way.
And because I speak Cat. Obviously.
What’s a mom to do? I turned to Callie and said, “Meow. Meow. Meow meow?”
Here was her response:
Maybe it’s my accent. I was taught by a Siamese.
“What she say?” Joe asked.
I looked back at Callie as I kept walking. She laid down, eyelids drooping.
“She said she’ll wait for us here,” I told him.
Problem solved. Mom’s still a superhero.