Riddle me this

If you were a cat, and you knew that of the four people living in the house that adopted you, one person really loved cats, two people kind of liked them, and one person really did not care for them much at all, which person would you follow around and sleep on during your frequent naps? Well, if your name is Wild Rosie, the chosen one would be the one who doesn't really care for felines. That would be me. Right this very instant, I have a small kitten sleeping in my lap. Before, when I was reading a book on the couch, I had a small kitten in my lap...sleeping. First thing this morning she meowed until I picked her up (it was either carry her or risk stepping on her...again).

This has to stop. The kindergartner tells me at least 10 times a day that, "Mom, Rosie is my cat, but it's ok if you hold her." I feel guilty for the unwarranted/unrequited affection. I have tried to put her down for her napping. She just wakes up and jumps back on my lap. Every. Single. Time. I have had the kindergartner put our her food (which by the way she is really finicky about). She still follows me around. I have calmly explained that although I know she is cute, I don't care for cats. She just meows and purrs.

And now, to top everything off, the cat ladies at the stores have started talking to me. Just yesterday, I was trying to pick out a different food to try (thinking, "let this one work") when a lady just started talking to me in the aisle. She asked me what type of cat we had and told me that I should consider making my own cat food. I was all like, "Oh? How interesting." on the outside but on the inside I said something like, "Great. Now people think I'M a cat lady."

I'm sure she will grow on me at some point. You shouldn't count on me wearing a cat sweater to school any time soon, though.

Dear Fellow "Swimmer",

I am writing this letter for the good of the children (mainly my Cubscout because the kindergartner is a girl so it doesn't matter quite as much) and my retinas (which may be permanently scarred). It came to my attention today as I was soaking up the rays just down from you (I was the source of the blinding glare of pale...sorry) that we have an issue that needs to be addressed. I'm going to cut right to the chase. Please put on more of a swimsuit (consisting of more that 1/16 of a yard of fabric). Please. Only your doctor and/or significant other needs to know for a fact that you had a C-section at some point in your life. I do not. Nor do the kids (including, but not limited, to my own). I get that you don't want tan lines, I do. I also know that you don't want to wear a "momsuit" like the rest of us. But, surely we can come to some sort of compromise like you could maybe make your bottoms come up to only 2 inches below your belly button. You will no longer jeopardize the safety of the pool by distracting the lifeguard. Give it some thought. Thank you for your time and kind consideration.

Sincerely,
Frau M.

Top 5 ways

to know your server has absolutely NO EXPERIENCE with children:

1. She places every drink directly in front of the baby.
2. She places every plate of food directly in front of the baby.
3. She gives the baby the straws for the whole table.
4. She gives the baby the hot wetnaps for the whole table.
5. She gives the baby the mints for the whole table.

Check off all five and you have our (my BFF's family and mine) server from today. My arm is a little sore (as I am sure my BFF's is too) from using cat-like reflexes to pull the items away from the littlest member of our party. The funny (ironic, not ha ha) thing is, I know the server didn't even realize that she was doing her very best to create the perfect storm of restaurant disaster. She should have given us a tip for not letting it happen.