Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Do The Kittens Have Large Talons?

"Guess what! I'm getting a kitten!"
(This is me, being irrational but acting like I'm being rational.)

"Natasha."
(This is my sister, sighing my name as if she's about to respond with something rational.)

"What?"
(This is me, already knowing what she's going to say but pretending not to know.)

"How are you gonna take care of a kitten? You can't even take care of yourself."
(This is my sister doing exactly as I predicted previously.)

"Oh my GOD, just because I wear diapers does not mean I can't take care of myself. It means I can take care of myself and I can take care of diaper-disposal."
(This is me, making an immature joke about walking around in my feces because I already know she's going to win this argument.)

"You can't even afford to feed yourself. How are you going to feed a kitten?"
(Don't you just hate that? When people make sense? It's so pretentious.)

"Well, I already told the woman I'd pick up her kitten tomorrow so ha-HA!"
(This is me "making sense." Please note that making sense and "making sense" are two completely different things.)

No one seemed to agree with my brilliant plan of owning a pet. Amidst my discussions with people of Mission Meow, many words seemed to work their way into the debate. Words such as:

Irresponsible.
As in, "You're too irresponsible."

Shit.
As in, "The last time you had a kitten, you let it shit everywhere."

God damn shit.
As in, "You also never cleaned up its god damn shit."

And honky.
As in, "Look at that honky eatin' some damn noodles!"

I don't know how that last one got into the cat-conversation. Now that I think about it, I think that was a different conversation altogether. Actually, that may have never even been said until just now.

Regardless, I knew this time would be different from the last. One, I am 21-years-old now, which is basically 43, so I'm certainly at the maturity level to care for an animal. Two, I don't live with roommates who have shit for heads. I know they would not give away my kitten while I was away in class, without telling me, LIKE THE LAST MOTHER FUCKERS DID. And three, please refer to reasons one and two.

But, everyone was advising me not to. And I knew they were right. And I knew they were rational. And I knew I was wrong. I knew I wasn't ready. Maybe I would be in the future, but not now. I knew that patience is a virtue, and there will always be kittens out there for me to make my own. I knew...I should wait.


BUT I DID IT ANYWAY. Ha-HA! SUCK IT.



2 comments:

stevebezan said...

What a cutie! The kitten I mean; not that you aren't cute but DAMN look at the claws on that paw. I'm playing it safe :-)

Natasha said...

Thanks, Steve! Unfortunately, the kitten is also a LIAR. She has been a female for the past seven months, and as of two weeks ago she decided to grow testicles. Apparently male cats don't grow their man parts until they hit puberty (a fact that would have been nice to know LAST YEAR when I named the cat after a WOMAN). I've settled on a decision to accept this twist of fate: she is a girl trapped in a boy's body.