BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I have to wonder why when speaking to children we adults endeavor to complicate explanations with inferences and allusions, instead of just coming right out and saying what we mean. You know, stuff like the whole “Well… There are birds and there are bees, and then there are flowers…“

I suppose it may have to do with helping them develop deductive reasoning skills. The whole putting two and two together sort of thing. Problem is, it seems kids are way ahead of us on some of this, and they are completely unabashed in their explanations.

Yeah, this is another instance of from the mouths of… Just like the other day when my kid yelled out, “Mommy gave you a big pussy?!” (If you are new here, it’s not as bad as it sounds – see blog post What did you say?)

Similarly, this incident occurred during our morning walk while the munchkin’ was still on spring vacation. We were following the same route we had a day or so before, and on that recent walk we had seen a cat sitting on a porch. I know, no big deal. It’s not like we don’t have cats ourselves, however, this seemed to fascinate the kid since she thought the cat was “really cute.”

Anyway, the topic of conversation that morning was “whether or not that cat would be sitting on the porch again.” As it turned out, it was. Well, actually, it was sitting in front of the porch instead of on it, but the point is it was there again. Or still there for all I know, but I digress…

Once we saw the cat and the kid oohed and ahhed, we continued on our way. We’d only traveled a quarter of a block when the short person asked, “Daddy. Is that cat a boy or a girl?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I replied. “It’s kind of hard to tell at a distance when it isn’t a Calico.”

Now granted, I didn’t give her any manner of convoluted explanation, and the reality is I wouldn’t be able to tell the gender of the feline unless I went over and grabbed it up by the tail – or, if it happened to elect to put its yarbles – or lack thereof – on display as cats will sometimes do. But, my kid was undaunted. She figured that if I couldn’t figure it out, then she would venture her own theory.

“Oh… Yeah…” she mused. After a very brief pause she announced, “Maybe we could tell like you do with dogs.”

Curious, I asked, “How’s that?”

“You wait for them to pee. If it’s a boy he will lift his leg. If it’s a girl, she just looks like she’s pooping.”

Direct. To the point. And, near as I can figure, pretty damn accurate, at least where dogs are concerned.

I think I’ll take a lesson from the offspring in this case. Next time someone asks me a question – especially one I don’t really want to answer – I’ll just say, “You have to wait for them to pee…“

More to come…

Murv

There are times when it seriously sucks to be the Dad.

I suppose I should back up just a bit and give you some background as to why I make that statement, because I suspect most of you know I am all about my kid. So, let me fill you in…

Some of you may or may not be aware that the animals in my novels – those being the two dogs and the three cats who share the abode with the main characters, Rowan and Felicity – are actually based on my own four-legged cohabitators. The dogs, as I have mentioned in the past, have since gone on to the other side, but they still live on in my books. So too, do the felines in many senses, as they are composites of the numerous cats we have rescued over the years. Emily – the cats in the novels are named Emily (Dickinson), Dickens (Charles), and Salinger (J.D.), go figure – is based on the real life felines, Data and Buffer, both calicos like their fictional composite. Data left us last year, peacefully, in her sleep. She was something on the order of a million years old… Well, around 18+ years to be a little more exact, but for a cat, that’s a fair piece of time. Buffer, however, was still around – until this weekend.

Buffer was only 14, but that is still a good lifetime for a feline. To be honest, where I come from, farm cats rarely made it past 5 or 6 years, but I digress as usual. The especially bad part about losing Buffer this weekend is that she went outside and got into an altercation with a vehicle.

The vehicle won.

EK and the Spawn were out shopping, which was fortunate, because I was the one who found her instead of them. As you can guess, when you are talking Feline vs. Auto, the results aren’t very pretty.

So, I found her… And, I got to be the one who cleaned up the remains, dug the hole, tried to convince my wife that the animal hadn’t suffered – though I really couldn’t know that for sure – and help console an 8 year old who misses her friend. Then, I got to toss and turn that night because the image of the aftermath played back for me each time I closed my eyes. And, you know, as it happens I miss the cat too. But, I have to be the strong one.

Hence, why it sometimes sucks to be the Dad, especially when a shovel an a shoebox are involved…

(sigh)

I suppose I should try to end this on a slightly cheerier note, so here goes…

Speaking of pets, I’m sure most everyone is aware of the latest Myspace rage, that being purchasing and selling your friends as “human pets”. Well, it seems I was purchased by an old friend, and she has since sold me… Since then I have been gifted, traded, and sold all over the place. But, just so all the bases are covered, I’ll mention here that if you purchase me, unlike Morrison, I am housebroken and fairly low maintenance.

BTW, I really like Pizza and beer, but I don’t do tricks. Well, I do, but that’s a whole ‘nother story…

More to come…

Murv