Kittens as excuses. Talk about an undervalued part of pet ownership. Here's what I mean. Say the party is slowing down or hasn't really ever gotten going, one can just trot out the old "my kittens are destroying the house, regretfully I must depart" excuse.
Works every time. Of course, it is true, the kittens are destroying the house- their furry pace is unstoppable. But I can slow it with my presence. So there's a vein of truth in my begging off. Today, I read of a soccer star who was arrested for drunk driving because he said he had to go to the hardware store to purchase tools to free his cat who was trapped under the floorboards.
Frankly, I buy this excuse 100%. The boys are regularly mere seconds away from being trapped or encountering certain death every day. I must, as the Big Cat, save them by yelling things like, "Don't chew on that electrical cord, Rooney!!!" Or, "no Rufus, don't leap up on the stove, that element is red hot!!!" Barely averted disaster is the norm at Casa Big Cat." But you're never home," my uncle pointed out the other night at dinner. This is true. And it means just one thing - the lads are saving up all the drama 'til I return home just to liven up my dull life. Oh, the compassionate, little fur-faces. Raising my blood pressure will keep me alive! Eek. xxx dad
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