Thursday, January 11, 2007

egyptians worshipped cats, you know

Rocky, our large (but not fat) cat, has many endearing qualities but my favorite is whatever makes him need to sprawl in the exact middle of our top stair. I honestly think he has developed some technique to measure the space and arrange himself with just enough room for me to think I can fit my foot solidly next to him. And I fall for it, literally, every morning. I try to squeeze my sleepy slippered foot by and end up flailing down to the landing Chevy Chase-style, saying words only grown-ups can use when they're really upset. Then I look back surprised & outraged, like people do when they've tripped in the street, as though it makes them seem victimized instead of plain clumsy. Our big (but not fat) dumb cat stares blankly at me, challenging me to yell at him or kick him or throw him down the stairs, knowing very well I won't (because of the certain traumatizing effects on my children, not because I don't want to cause him pain). So we play this game everyday. Will he never learn?