Go-Cat
'Cats,' says the woman blocking my trolley in Oils and Condiments, 'help children develop in a different way.'
I'm not certain what she means by this. Whether feline companionship makes children caring and responsible, condemns them to a life on anti-histamines or fosters a violent enthusiasm for small rodents.
My daughter is desperate for a cat. For two years she's been decided on the name - Frisbee - but has lacked an animal to bestow it on. Now everyone is telling me that pets are as vital to a child's emotional growth as sleepovers and probiotics and I know that they are right, but I don't want to face up to it.
The sad truth is that middle age has made me cowardly. Long ago I planned to be a spinster with 17 cats. My two moggies shared my pillow and my dining table. But age, kids and matrimony got in the way. Now I worry about paw prints on my White Company bath mats, jellified lamb chunks putrefying in the kitchen, pigeon entrails draping the stairs. I worry that now I can get away with cleaning the house every five weeks; post-cat I can't. 'Cat hair isn't a problem so long as you don't wear black,' says Woman by Condiments. But my husband is a vicar. He wears nothing but black. And paying a funeral visit with a thickly moustachioed behind will impair his gravitas.
The realisation of my reluctance is as shocking as the discovery last year that I can no longer do forward rolls. When the Cat Subject is next raised I tell my daughter: 'We'll see'. I'm hoping that I can justify a year or two of 'seeing', by which time she'll have switched her ambitions to an iPad 3.
She knows that and says that instead of a cat I could have new baby. She's heard that older people like me can get one off the internet.
That night I dream that I've adopted infant twins. I wake up sweating. I promise my daughter that tomorrow we're going to get a cat.
Now head over to Actually Mummy's new Sunday Funny to see more of the comic side of parenting
I'm not certain what she means by this. Whether feline companionship makes children caring and responsible, condemns them to a life on anti-histamines or fosters a violent enthusiasm for small rodents.
My daughter is desperate for a cat. For two years she's been decided on the name - Frisbee - but has lacked an animal to bestow it on. Now everyone is telling me that pets are as vital to a child's emotional growth as sleepovers and probiotics and I know that they are right, but I don't want to face up to it.
The sad truth is that middle age has made me cowardly. Long ago I planned to be a spinster with 17 cats. My two moggies shared my pillow and my dining table. But age, kids and matrimony got in the way. Now I worry about paw prints on my White Company bath mats, jellified lamb chunks putrefying in the kitchen, pigeon entrails draping the stairs. I worry that now I can get away with cleaning the house every five weeks; post-cat I can't. 'Cat hair isn't a problem so long as you don't wear black,' says Woman by Condiments. But my husband is a vicar. He wears nothing but black. And paying a funeral visit with a thickly moustachioed behind will impair his gravitas.
The realisation of my reluctance is as shocking as the discovery last year that I can no longer do forward rolls. When the Cat Subject is next raised I tell my daughter: 'We'll see'. I'm hoping that I can justify a year or two of 'seeing', by which time she'll have switched her ambitions to an iPad 3.
She knows that and says that instead of a cat I could have new baby. She's heard that older people like me can get one off the internet.
That night I dream that I've adopted infant twins. I wake up sweating. I promise my daughter that tomorrow we're going to get a cat.
Now head over to Actually Mummy's new Sunday Funny to see more of the comic side of parenting
When you've bought the cat will you practice forward rolls again? You should.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant! "And paying a funeral visit with a thickly moustachioed behind will impair his gravitas." is probably my phrase of the year so far. I know it's January but I read a lot. I really did laugh out loud so mission accomplished for #sunfun.
ReplyDeleteOh, Slightly Suburban, I'm becoming mighty fond of you!
DeleteHa ha! I thought I'd grow up a cat loving spinster.But I haven't, maybe when the kids leave home.
ReplyDeleteAh you have overlooked the one feline benefit that is of use to the busy modern mother of the noughties - bobble removing from wooly jumpers. cats have a penchant for hopping on laps and licking jumpers with their sandpaper tongues which in turn removes 'bobbling'. I myself keep a small kitten gaffa taped to a broom handle in the pantry for such occasions.
ReplyDeleteFunny you should say that. For since we acquired the wretched cats they have teased out the wool in my best glamour-cardies so I am bobblier than ever. They also poo on the rugs, wee on the beds and leave earth worms on the landing. Wish I'd gone for the babies after all.
DeleteThat's made me laugh out loud. My children (and dog, sorry) are eyeing me suspiciously.
ReplyDeleteIf only you were yummytoslummymummy you could have incontinent kittens too!! (For the following day we acquired two toms)
DeleteLol . My wife used the same tactic . It was either a puppy or another baby. Im not sure I could cope with either !
ReplyDeleteGo for the baby. With hindsight, much much easier!
DeleteI have a basset hound you can have - he'll eat the cats for you... he will moult, drool and stink your house out though...
ReplyDeleteA cat would definitely be far less trouble than a baby. Dogs however...
ReplyDeleteThe cat could become your new baby! If you're worried about cat hair, you could always plump for a hairless one. They look like gremlins but you can't have everything...
ReplyDeleteToo late. I wrote this in October, was true to my resolve and am now three-months deep in cat hair and worse.
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