I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres.  Why? Because I Can!

Dear Ellen,

Sometimes I imagine things: specifically that I’m having conversations with my cat, Gwennie. Last night I stepped on her when I was getting up – for the 10th time – to check on my screaming toddler. The following conversation took place.

Gwennie(the cat) – Watch where you’re stepping, prevert!

Me: Why are you on the floor, anyway?  There’s a bed here.

Gwennie: Sleeping on the bed isn’t in the cards for me.  Apparently it’s my job to be here so your fat feet have something soft to step on.  Maybe I should change my job title from Supervisory Cat-in-Charge of Household Operations to Floor Mat for Foot Corns.

Me: Somebody’s cranky.

Gwennie: You think?  Now hurry the hell up and tell that baby to shut her mouth! I’m trying to sleep!

Ellen, do you find it disturbing that in the vast realms of my imagination, my cat talks to me this way?

Sincerely,

A. Marie