I really need to rename this blog, Two cats and a Kid in Kansas because lately, that's all I write about.
T does really well if we stick to a set way of doing things; consistentency and routine is the name of the game. Most kids seem to crave consistency and well, some of us (like me) just never outgrow of needing it.
Upon leaving her crib in the morning, T likes to bring her buddies (Bart (the bad dog) and Dahlia (her teddy bear) into the living room to spend the morning with her. However, before we leave the house to run errands etc., we have to give them kisses and hugs and put them back to 'bed' for a nap. This way, we know where they are when we come home.
Well, this morning before we left for my dental appointment, we had to put Bart and Dahlia back to bed with the standard kiss and cuddle. On the way out of T's room, we patted Gryffin good bye too (kissing Gryffin wasn't in the cards). Phenix was still in the living room, so I grabbed her so that T could pat her goodbye too.
I told T to give Phenix a kiss goodbye too, keep things consistent right? What happened next, shocked even me. I figured T would just nozzle Phenix's neck as she tries to do with Gryffin and call it a day.
Nope, she did one better. She bent down and planted a big wet kiss on Phenix's nose/mouth.
I swear Phenix must have been as stunned as I was...if Phenix could talk, she would have screamed. I often think if the cats could talk, they would sound something a kin to Baby Stewy from the Family Guy. Sorry, I got off track, back to the story.
Post pucker, I think Phenix would also have told me that her and I are now even for last weekend.
You see, last weekend during the brief tornado warning followed by tornado sirens going off (false alarm thankfully), I had to curtail T and both cats into the basement. The curtailling of a certain orange fuzzy didn't go well for Mommy.
Gryffin went somewhat willing to the bowels of the house to ride out the storm but Phenix had other thoughts.
No, our little Evil Kenvil Phenix decided that waiting out the first tornado warning of the season, under the bench in our bedroom was a far better choice than allowing Mommy to escort her to the basement. When I tried to 'escort' her to the basement (grabbing her and dragging her yowling to the basement), she used her back claws to shred my lower left arm. Crazy old me thought I should wear a t-shirt that day, how stupid of me. If only I had known better.
To Phenix's credit, when T kissed her, Phenix didn't even flinch. She went into this zen like karate calmness (our little Yoda Kitty) and just sat there but you could just hear her silently screaming 'Put me down NOW!'
I'm not sure which one surprises me more daily with their adventures, T or P.