For a couple of weeks, I awakened with a twelve-pound cat tangled in my shining tresses. I’d spend half an hour talking to said cat, whose name is Atticus. He’d purr, he’d preen. He’d tell me where he wanted to be scratched and nip if I scratched out of bounds. Then, I’d go downstairs and start household chores for the day. One morning, Darla and I were discussing something serious when Atticus padded softly into the kitchen, took one look at me and sauntered off.
Tata: Darla, am I imagining it or is that cat pretending we’re not sleeping together?
Darla: He’s acting like he doesn’t know you in public!
Apparently, Atticus saw Samantha sitting on my lap and now he’s all like “Girlfriend, please!” And I’m all like “But honey, you’re the only cat for me!” And Atticus is like “Sugar, I’m not sure you even like cats.” I’m not sayin’, I’m just sayin’!
This morning, he was sleeping near my head but not on it, but he did tangle my hair a little. While I wonder if Atticus will take me back, the world keeps turning. Dad is asleep most of the time now. His absent relatives are mystified by this.
Cousin So-And-So: When are they putting him to sleep?
Tata: He’s not a Shitzu! He gets medication that makes him sleep all the time!
Cousin So-And-So: You didn’t take him to the pound?
Daria’s struggled with Dad’s printer for two days and today got over herself.
Daria: Black and white?
Tata: …will be the most awesome thing in the universe if you stop fist-fighting ink cartridges.
Yes, I’m sick of cartridges flying past my head in sprays of whichever primary color was at the top of Daria’s hit list as Daria cursed the ancestors of both Hewlett and Packard. Fortunately, the picture she was trying to print turned out just as well in black and white on transfer paper, then on XL white t-shirts. We have been calling ourselves “Team LongItalianLastName” and now we have uniforms. Daria showed this to Dad, who has in his wakeful moments become a master of graphic demonstration.
Daria: Dad! Look!
Dad: [Crazy people!]
Daria: Team LongItalianLastName! Everyone gets one!
Daria: Your ex-wife, her new husband, all the kids you acknowledge…
Dad: [Watchit, you!]
From minute to minute, we don’t know what to expect so we make no plans. Dara goes to school and I don’t know how she does it. Because Dad is a celebrity here and he involved her in his projects, Dara can’t walk ten feet without someone expressing condolences. Fortunately, she’s got driver’s ed this semester and tomorrow they start behind-the-wheel.