meow

22 Nov

Guess what? My seven-year old can speak “cat”. Yes, it’s true. He spent the better part of today on all fours following around our little cat Penny, interpreting her every meow for us! Aparently, we are not meeting Penny’s needs. Penny really wants to go outside and fight with other cats and escape her other steady companion, our three-year old little sister.

 This made for great fun and games all day long. There goes the cat (in a big hurry). There goes Kieran, sliding around on the floor meowing. There goes little Drew, copying her big brother, meowing. Uh-oh. There’s Brandon (big 12-year old brother) rolling his eyes and insisting that nobody is actually speaking “cat”. We were launched into deep debate all day long about whether or not Kieran could speak cat, and why is Drew copying me, and does it really matter? AAAAAHHHHHH….. when does school start back up?

When my sweety came home today I don’t think I even looked him in the eye. I finished up the pie I was making as fast as I could, and grabbed my yoga mat so I could take class before I taught tonight. As I flew full speed out the door, I think my exact words were, “I’m taking class tonight so I won’t kill one of the kids!”

 I ran out to take class, snuck into the back of the room, 10 minutes late, unrolled my mat and, joy – I was smack next to the instructor’s two young sons. Now, I must say that they were very well behaved. They tried to do everything in class. They were super cute. I strongly believe that children belong at yoga studios and yoga studios don’t have to be stuffy and quiet all of the time. But I was planning to escape little boys tonight. That was the grand master plan. Instead, I ended up listening to – how do I describe this? At one point I think I heard the whisper version of an armpit fart.

The Universe has a way of providing what I need. Tonight I tried to escape it and ended up in exactly the same situation. The irony. Ok Universe – I get it!

I came back tonight so grateful to have a fantastic husband who can handle things at home brilliantly. On the kitchen table was a paper with fifty sentences scrawled in second grade handwriting: “I will be good for my mom, I will be good for my mom, I will be good for my mom…”

I finished making pies with Brandon and explained that it’s such a fun game to play, this talking cat game. Let’s play along and who knows, maybe your brother really can talk to cats. Let’s not limit him!

When it’s all said and done tonight, it’s only fair that I type out my own set of sentences now: “Meow. Meow. Meow.” Translated from “cat”, that means: “I will be patient with my children. I will be patient with my children. I will be patient with my children.”

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