Cats.

This evening we went for a walk en famille because the park we usually visit in the evening was closed for refurbishment. We strolled, looking at trees, flowers, butterflies and birds. It was calm, relaxing, and amazingly, cool.
The Kidlet pointed out things that interested her along the way. For the most part, these things were cats.
She’d point her chubby little finger and squeal, “Look Mummy, I see a cat!” Then she’d barrel after it while the poor feline would dart for cover.
On each occasion after seeing a cat, the Kidlet said, “I want to see another cat, Mummy!” I told her to keep her eyes wide open and that would help her spot a cat.

On our homeward journey, we stopped to collect apricots from an abundant tree. The Kidlet spied a cat we’d previously seen from a distance, this time very nearby. As D pulled fruit from the tree, the Kidlet and I beckoned to the cat who trotted over to us, allowing us to pat her ears briefly. She then scurried under a bush and eyed us from afar.
The Kidlet said, predictably, “I want to see another cat, Mummy!” I began to remind her that she should open her eyes wide when she said, “Yes, I know Mummy, I has to open my eyes very shut.” And she closed her eyes tight. Just moments later, eyes still firmly shut, she announced, “Now I can see all the cats!”
Silly kid.

As we neared our flat, she urged me to find her some more cats. We spotted one last kitty who was unfortunately uninterested in visiting. I knew this would not satisfy the Kidlet. As we ascended the stairs, she said, “But Mummy, I want to see more cats.”
“I think there are two more kitties we can see,” I said, thinking on my feet and hoping that if the topic were spun well enough, she’d go for it.
“TWO more kitties?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Yeah, two more kitties. And they’re upstairs,” I gestured upwards. “Do you know their names?” I asked her.
“Uuuummm…” she said.
“They’re called Bennie and…” but she interupted me. “Grace!” she bellowed. Grace?
“Forrest,” I reminded her.
“Bennie and Forrest!” she yelled, clearly quite excited at the prospect of seeing her own two cats.
“That’s right, and they’re in your apartment, aren’t they?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“And what do you think they’re doing?” I asked, expecting her to say they were waiting for her.
“I think they’re making pukes,” was her answer.

Ahhhh, cats.

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