No Fish!

This is about our cat.

This is our useless cat on our roof, but this post is not about that.

We have a black cat.  Her name is Fish.  That is her real name.

She used to be an indoor cat, but a few months ago, she got out and really, really liked it.  She came back that night.  The next day, she got out again.  She came home at night.  We started to like this arrangement.  She likes it, too.

But then October hit.  We parents started to worry that someone might snatch our black cat because of Halloween and, while she is really annoying, we do want to protect her.

So in mid-October, I told the P, “Now some people think black cats are bad, so someone might try to take Fish and maybe hurt her if we let her out right now.  She needs to stay inside until Halloween is over.”

That’s all I said.

Later that morning, Fish got out, of course.  The P ran out to get her.  The Princess, who I had not said anything to about Halloween or black cats, leaned out the door and said, “Come back Fish!  You could be killed!”

She’s a little dramatic.

But I think she gets it from her brother.


Happy Answer Your Cat’s Questions Day

It’s true. January 22nd is “Answer Your Cat’s Questions Day.”

You can Google it.

The funny part to me is that “questions” is plural.

In honor of this, I will tell our cat, and you, how our cat got her name. She’s been wondering.

This picture was not posed. I went looking for her to get a shot for this post and this is how I found her:

20120115-233253.jpgShe is literally unable to find her way out of a brown paper bag.

My husband took my son to the pound to pick out a cat. As you can see, she’s all black and fluffy.

On the way home, BabyDaddy asks P what he thinks they should name the cat. These are examples of his suggestions, keeping in mind the color of the cat: Black, Blacky, Shadow, BlackBlack. The list went on.

Then, they passed a seafood restaurant. The next name our of our son’s mouth was “Fish.”

So, we kept it. We have a cat named Fish.

And, yes, our 2-year-old is confused by this. She calls every cat “fish.” She says that fish say “Meow.” But she also calls the real fish in the tank at the doctors’ office “fish.”

She’s pretty smart, though. I think she’ll sort it out.

The really crazy part is, I named my first hamster after a street sign I saw on the way home from the pet shop. Every time my kid does something that reminds me of the crazy part of me, I just have to apologize.

And it kind of happens alot.

When the P was only 3, we went some place with a helium balloon. It did what most helium balloons do in the hands of 3 years olds. It wiggled free and floated away. My son was upset, you can imagine, and we talked about how the balloon probably traveled to Oklahoma to see his aunt and uncle. We talked about how far away Oklahoma is.

Fast forward 6 months.

Another 3-year-old boy we know had just returned from the dentist with a helium balloon. We were walking with this friend and his dad. The dad said, “You hold on to that balloon because if it floats away, I will not be able to get it back.” My son looks at both of them with complete sincerity and says, “Oklahoma is far away.” The dad looks at P, then at me and goes, “Okaaaay…”

I don’t remember if I explained to the dad about why P thought of Oklahoma’s position when thinking of a helium balloon. I do remember thinking, “I’m so sorry kid. Some day you’ll learn to control that around strangers.”

How Boys and Girls are Different #2

The P and I have a little struggle that’s been going on for a while. I often drive him home after dark and he always wants to leave his interior light on in the car. One hundred percent of the time, he leaves the light on. Ninety percent of the time, I forget about it, too, and the light stays on until my husband comes home and says, “The light is on. ” after which the P runs out and turns it off.

The Princess noticed.

Now, when we are getting out of the car, the Princess says, “Bubba, ‘ight.” We both laugh and tell her thank you.

It’s becoming a pattern.

The other day, we were having a picnic in the living room. When Princess was done, she stood up, carried her plate into the kitchen, and put it in the sink.

No joke.

Then, she called me over and pointed at the cat’s empty bowl, “‘ood.”. She opened the cabinet under the sink, took out the Tupperware container with the cat food and together we fed the cat. Then, she says, “‘ink” and hands me the cat’s water bowl. I got the cat water, and Princess was so pleased.

I almost fell over.

I can’t tell if she’s going to turn out OCD, responsible, or bossy. But, seriously, it’s pretty great. As long as the P keeps thinking it’s cute when she tells him what to do, we’ll be okay.

Here’s the Princess taking care of her baby doll while she watches her stories.