Waging war in the urban jungle

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

My words come back to haunt me

We had a visitor this morning. A very cute gray cat came on our back deck and started batting at the door. I assumed the little kitty was confused in the dark and mistook our house for her home. Regardless she...or he...was adorable, rubbing her head on the door, batting her paws on the glass, generally getting my 5 year old very excited and begging me to let her in! No, I'm sorry, Paulo, Momma cannot let the strange kitty in the house. For two reasons really, #1 we are not set up for a cat-no litter box, no cat food, nothing- #2, dude, sorry to break it to you but you're allergic. My poor boy would love to have a pet, a fuzzy pet, one that could sleep in his bed and play fetch or sit on his lap and puuuuurrrr. Unfortunately he seems to have inherited Rene's allergies. We cat-sit, he sneezes. He goes to play at a friend's who has a dog, he starts scratching. The quintessential image of boy and faithful dog, just not meant to be.

But my boy is very determined! He sat there and looked at me, completely serious, and said "what if you were that cat and I did that to you!? How would you feel?? GUILTY?!?!" I couldn't help it, I laughed and asked him if he was trying to guilt trip me into letting the cat in? He couldn't keep a straight face after that and started to giggle himself. I assumed the little furball would go away once the sun came up and she realized she was at the wrong house, but low and behold the sun rose, the light shown and there in the corner of my backyard sat our visitor, huddled there, staring at me through the window, accusingly....seems I am not immune to guilt after all.

No comments:

Post a Comment