Theme
1:41pm March 23, 2012
Oh for the love of… So okay. I’m in bed. I’m exhausted. I hear Fey running around the house in circles making harrumphing noises and a howling wrowling sound associated with hunting that I’ve come to see as “I wish you were a mouse between my teeth right now.” And of course using her scratching post in a very displaced-aggression sort of way. I get it. She’s pissed about something. Then she comes over to the bed and starts wailing at me like her life depends on it. She sounds angry and frantic and I finally get up. She leads me into the kitchen where I try turning on the water, and sit down. She starts weaving through my legs so intensely that I worry that the problem isn’t water and that it’s important and I’ll never figure it out because she’s probably trying to tell me by smell or something. Then suddenly she leaps up on the sink and starts drinking the water. Here’s the thing. THE WATER IN THE BATHROOM HAS BEEN TURNED ON FOR HER ALL DAY. She likes that water okay most of the time. She drinks it a lot. But now she’s dragged me out of bed because apparently bathroom water isn’t good enough and it has to be kitchen water. Tomorrow she could do the exact opposite. I really, really try to respect her choices. I know that’s important for anyone with less power. But. I barely slept, I have a sore throat. I feel like shit and kind of need to be in bed. And she acts like she’s dying because it’s water from the wrong side of the house. I love her. As she is. But GAH. This is not the time to convince me you have an ultra-urgent need, one that I am surely committing a grievous act of neglect if I ignore, and then it turns out to be that the water that’s already turned on us from the wrong room. She really convinced me something awful was happening. And of course she is happy now, cuddled up with the air conditioner duct.

Oh for the love of…

So okay. I’m in bed. I’m exhausted. I hear Fey running around the house in circles making harrumphing noises and a howling wrowling sound associated with hunting that I’ve come to see as “I wish you were a mouse between my teeth right now.” And of course using her scratching post in a very displaced-aggression sort of way. I get it. She’s pissed about something.

Then she comes over to the bed and starts wailing at me like her life depends on it. She sounds angry and frantic and I finally get up.

She leads me into the kitchen where I try turning on the water, and sit down. She starts weaving through my legs so intensely that I worry that the problem isn’t water and that it’s important and I’ll never figure it out because she’s probably trying to tell me by smell or something.

Then suddenly she leaps up on the sink and starts drinking the water.

Here’s the thing.

THE WATER IN THE BATHROOM HAS BEEN TURNED ON FOR HER ALL DAY. She likes that water okay most of the time. She drinks it a lot.

But now she’s dragged me out of bed because apparently bathroom water isn’t good enough and it has to be kitchen water. Tomorrow she could do the exact opposite. I really, really try to respect her choices. I know that’s important for anyone with less power. But. I barely slept, I have a sore throat. I feel like shit and kind of need to be in bed. And she acts like she’s dying because it’s water from the wrong side of the house.

I love her. As she is. But GAH. This is not the time to convince me you have an ultra-urgent need, one that I am surely committing a grievous act of neglect if I ignore, and then it turns out to be that the water that’s already turned on us from the wrong room. She really convinced me something awful was happening. And of course she is happy now, cuddled up with the air conditioner duct.