Little Missy and I Have a Chat.

I had fallen asleep on the couch trying to stay awake for the Little Thing’s late night feeding.  When I woke up I felt something heavy lying over both of my legs. 

After my eyes focused I found that Little Missy was sound asleep on top of me.

“Little Missy,” I said softly.  “Baby girl…Momma needs to get up.”

Little Missy cracked her eyes open just a little.  “No,” she said ever so sweetly.

“Baby girl.  Momma needs to get up and feed the Little Thing.”

“No.” Her words were gentle like a bird’s chirping sounds on the first day of Spring.

I squirmed a little bit and then pulled myself into a 90 degree angle with out disturbing her.  Lord have mercy on me if I ever disturbed a cat in this house.  I disturbed Gwennie once.  She still hasn’t forgiven me and it’s been two years now.

I reached across my legs and pet Little Missy. Then I began scratching her, paying particular attention to her chin and neck.

“Momma,” she cooed.

“Yes baby.”

“This is not motivation to get me to move.  But it’s very nice.”

“Thank you baby.  But guess what?”

“You’re gonna move regardless?”

“Yep.”  As I lifted my legs she gave me a sweet but sarcastic smile and jumped off the couch.

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“MOMMA!”

“Yes Gwennie.”

“What in the bejesus are you doing?”

“Typing my blog.”

“Your blog? Did you say your blog?”

“Yes Gwennie.”

“That’s very funny momma! I’m fairly certain this is, in fact, MY blog and you can’t be typing on it whenever you feel like it.”

“Well you let me know how that works out for you.”  Gwennie jumped up on the desk and sat down next to me.

“What the hell is this s@#$!”

“Watch your language!”

“You wanna tell me why there is an entire post dedicated to Little Missy?”

“Because…..I…..said so…..”

“Are you trying to traumatize people?” Gwennie thumped her tail against the desk.

“No dear, I’m not.”  This little routine of hers is seriously starting to get old.

“Don’t write that!  What’s wrong with you?  I can read you know!” She moved in front of the monitor to block my view but it didn’t work.  I shoved her aside, ignored her and continued typing along.

“I’m not going anywhere!  Stop typing!”

G-W-E-N-N-I-E   G-O   T-O   B-E-D

“Very funny Momma!” she hissed as she jumped off the desk.  Once again I found myself working in peace and silence.  I moved the cursor back up to the top of the screen and began proof reading my post.

(CRASH! BANG! BOOM!)

Holy Mac & Cheese!  What is she getting into now?

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