{"id":6365,"date":"2011-12-01T12:37:09","date_gmt":"2011-12-01T17:37:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/danigirl.ca\/blog\/?p=6365"},"modified":"2011-12-02T20:24:58","modified_gmt":"2011-12-03T01:24:58","slug":"a-conversation-with-willie-the-cat","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/danigirl.ca\/blog\/2011\/12\/01\/a-conversation-with-willie-the-cat\/","title":{"rendered":"A conversation with Willie the Cat"},"content":{"rendered":"

I<\/span>t’s 5:15 am. Willie the cat is sitting on me as I huddle under the blankets and try to ignore him.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> Hey. You. Get up. I’m hungry.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Ugh, Willie. Go back to sleep. It’s early.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> You have to get up. I heard you shifting. I know you’re awake.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Willie, the alarm won’t even go off for 15 more minutes. Get off me.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> You said I don’t cuddle enough. I’m cuddling.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>You’re not cuddling, you’re pestering. Cuddling happens when I’m awake and feel like petting you. This is not cuddling.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> Feed me.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Listen, you’re a nice cat. I never thought I’d like a cat as much as I like you. You’ve really grown on me in the past couple of months. But seriously, it’s a quarter after five in the morning. Go away.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> If you don’t feed me, I won’t pose for any more pictures.<\/p>\n

\"291:365<\/a><\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>I don’t care, I’ve already got half a dozen pictures of you for sale on Getty Images. I don’t need more. What I need is sleep. Please?<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> I’m bored. I think I’ll chase this random bit of plastic around under your bed for a while. Don’t you love that skittering noise? Oh, and don’t bother getting up to take it away from me, because I have twenty more pieces just like it stashed all over the house.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Speaking of stashed, could you please stop stealing the kids’ stuffed animals? You get them all slobbery and full of dog hair when you carry them around the house.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> It’s not my fault your dog is a giant shedding hair ball.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Willie, please? Go play with the boys, I’m sure they’d love to be woken up by your adorableness.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> It’s more fun aggravating you.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Clearly. So listen, since I’m up anyway, can we talk about the Christmas tree? I’ve survived three kids’ worth of toddler years and I’ve never yet had a Christmas tree come down. And yet, I’m thinking we may have a problem this year.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> What kind of problem? Lucas is old enough to know not to touch the tree.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Um, yeah. It’s not Lucas, it’s you I’m worried about.<\/p>\n

Willie: <\/b>Me?<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Yeah. Like how you like to knock things over? And how you chase shiny things? And steal stuff? And climb things? And chew through cardboard?<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> I’m not getting you.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Willie, we are seriously afraid to put up the Christmas tree this year. You’re a menace without a giant tree full of breakables in the middle of the living room.<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> You keep your breakable ornaments on a shelf. <\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Yeah, but I was hoping this would be the year I get to actually put them on the tree, yanno?<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> You’ve got three rambunctious boys and you think the cat<\/em> is going to be the one who brings down the tree?<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Okay, you can have that one. But even as toddlers, the boys didn’t climb up on the shelves and purposefully knock things off of them — something you have been known to do. <\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> See, it doesn’t really matter where you put them. So I can perch in the tree, right?<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>Oy. I’m going back to sleep…<\/p>\n

Willie:<\/b> Good luck with that. Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here and bat books off the shelf and onto the bed until you get up and feed me.<\/p>\n

Me: <\/b>*whimper*<\/p>\n

Edited to add: <\/em> Ha! From Vanessa’s comment below – yeah, this:<\/p>\n