I don’t understand. What have I done to deserve the 22-y-o Cling-On (aka my son) who has lived with us for the past 8 years & plays XBox Live all day, can’t manage to wash a dish without leaving behind greasy residue & bits of food/soap and feels I should give him an “engraved invitation” to chip in around the house!? Shouldn’t he know what to do by now and JUST DO IT!? Please help (before I notify the “Federation” and declare an all-out war backed by “Star Fleet”)!
Setting Phasers to “STUN” (Not really!)
Dear Setting Phasers,
#1 – I thought we agreed on that half-pound bag of catnip in exchange for the invaluable advice. Not even a single mini-marshmallow? What gives, woman!? We’ll get back to that since I know people up here in heaven now, so… first warning is all I’m sayin’.
#2 – Think back to when I was the adorable, quasi-feral kitten you loved & hated. I peed in everything except my litter box. Even though I did you the honor of marking the shoes of that idiot ex-husband of yours with my pee-stink, you were still more frustrated than ecstatic with my dirty habit. (PS – You’re WELCOME!)
The day I ran away, even though YOU did silent fist-pumps (thanks a LOT; I’ll remember that…) your little Cling-On was heartbroken. As the days went by, 3-y-o Cling-On’s grief became contagious and you started hearing my kitten-cries in your head.
*Just FYI, you do know that I was stuck up in that friggin’ tree behind the house the WHOLE time and the weak, mewling cries you actually heard were from EXHAUSTION and a touch of starvation because – HELLO! I couldn’t get down! By the way, that was BRILLIANT of you NOT to check the tree…. Just sayin’…
MOVING ON since this is not about me (ha ha) – the day I was found you all rejoiced. I had almost given your mother a stroke by taking the death-defying risk of dropping myself off that tree-branch and onto her big ‘ol head, but you were happy nonetheless (hahaha! That was hilarious, right!?). You even took extra-special care of me and showered me with kisses. …After dumping me in the sink and torturing me with that bubbly “bath” crap. Ew!
You snuggled me in a towel and filled my empty belly. In about a week I went from Karen-Carpenter to chunky-but-funky!
So to wrap this up, you loved me in spite of this foulest of feline idiosyncrasies and in a few month’s time you took me to the vet, got me fixed and the pee-pee problem mysteriously ceased.
My advice? – GET THAT BOY NEUTERED!! Maybe then he’ll move out and/or miraculously become a neat-freak.
That’s about all I got – pay up, Lady! Heaven is nice & all but the “catnip” up here is all “spiritual”, organic, dirt-shit. How ’bout some primo-grade for your Fluff Muffin?
PS – I really miss the marshmallows.