I nearly came home with another cat yesterday. She was perfect: 6 years old, a grey-and-white fur pattern we’ve never had before, had lived with other cats before, and she passed The Henry Test (tolerating with aplomb his sudden loud sounds, lunges, awkward hugs, and fur-ruffling pettings, but also stepping confidently away from him when she’d had enough).
But I didn’t bring her home. Instead I talked my mother’s ear off all the way home about how it was like when you date someone who seems so perfect and list-checking-off in every way, you WISH you were passionate about them, but you’re just NOT. I thought she was a great, great cat, probably perfect for our family, but I didn’t feel like I couldn’t leave the shelter without her.
And we are NOT having more than three cats, so I thought I’d prefer to leave the Third Cat position empty, in case I encountered a cat I felt I couldn’t live without. It’s fun to acquire a new cat, and our current cats are ages 1 and 2 so it’s likely to be a LONG TIME before we replace them (just did math: HENRY COULD BE OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL OMG)—and we just got them in the past year, so maybe it would be nice to spread out the cat-shopping fun a little. But I also feel a little weird and regretful about it: we could given that great cat a home, but chose not to because of a weird and misapplied dating analogy. It helps that our shelter is no-kill AND has a high turnover: she WILL be adopted, and soon, just not by us.
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I used that trip to the shelter to motivate myself to get rid of four more kitchen-trash-sized bags of clothes. (Connection: donation dumpster at shelter.) A lot was Henry’s outgrown stuff, but there was also a bunch of clothes I bought for Elizabeth that she just Won’t Wear, and I might as well pass them on to a little girl who Will. And some curtains I’ve saved for over a decade because they were perfect in our apartment even though they don’t work in our house. And five pairs of rain boots that are too small for anyone who lives here. And several pairs of near-new shoes that kids didn’t like/wear for whatever reason. And a long skirt I think of myself as being just about to wear, but I don’t wear it, EVER. And two pair of wide-legged jeans I trip in. And some shirts the bigger boys are wearing that were a good deal but I don’t like them; they’d be fine as handmedowns, but I DON’T LIKE THEM, so I’m not storing/saving them and then seeing them again later. And about six pairs of brand-new jeans I bought for Elizabeth before it turned out she wears jeans about once a month. And some baby blankets.
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Henry, encountering a slice of turkey: “Is this fish made out of HAM?” Meat education fail.
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I dreamed last night that I was in labor, but it was a pleasant dream because it was labor as I’d IMAGINED it would be (tight squeezing pain over entire tum area—like a Braxton-Hicks but with pain) rather than as it actually WAS (internal small-focus stabbing-knife-gas-pain-type feeling), and I felt like I was handling it.
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Driving home from the library, THREE people are lucky I’m such a fearful defensive driver. First, a guy in a car pulled out of a side street, right through his stop sign and into my path. I had to come to a complete stop to avoid hitting him. He didn’t even flinch. A little further down the same road, a bicyclist traveling on a street perpendicular to mine flinged at full speed into the crosswalk from a sidewalk behind a building where I couldn’t see him, without stopping before entering the crosswalk, and without even glancing to see if a car was there. Third, a child (8-10 age) ran across the road without looking, not in a crosswalk.
omg – seriously. is this fish made of ham? snort-worthy.
also my word verification?
balls.
Man, I feel you on the defensive driving. Either I’m getting more crotchety in my old age (I’m 29) or people are getting worse at driving. On Wednesday, I saw two people run red lights. Not just, sneak-through-when-the-light-is-turning/has-turned-red, but one didn’t even stop at a light I was stopped at and one was stopped and the left turn arrow turned green and he just…went straight through even though his light was red.
Man I can’t wait till my kid can talk well enough that I can see my educational failings with him. Fish made out of ham? It makes you wonder how their minds work!
Is this fish made out of HAM?
This is how I’m going to refer to turkey from now on. :)
“Is this fish made out of HAM?” That Henry is a hoot.
We only have 2 kinds of meat in our house: Chicken or Ham. We buy and eat other kinds, but not according to my daughter. Chicken or Ham. That’s all. Choose your category.
Carter always screams for more turkey when he is, in fact, eating ham. But I like Henry’s question better.
Eeek, those driving incidents always make me shiver, then I think about them and relive them and wonder what would have happened if….
I love the fish made out of HAM! Such a funny kid.
And I am with you on the defensive driving. I feel like I need to be more defensive with every passing day. And the other day I wasn’t paying attention at a stoplight (dangit, Twitter!) and a wreck happened right in front of me and I couldn’t be a witness because I honestly had no idea whose fault it was. :(
I agree that sometimes the THINKING and PLANNING and LOOKING for a new pet is just as fun as actually GETTING the new pet. It’s so fun to look forward to something like that! Plus, I think it’s most fun to add a new person to the family, but adding a new pet is 2nd best, and I’d want to spread that around a little bit, too.
I vote for people are worse drivers now rather than we are getting crotchety. I can’t tell you how many people think it is ok to roll through a stop sign/red light if no one is coming. Hell, they just roll through even if someone is coming. It is all me!me!me! and screw you if you are not me! Ugh!
I have a only-slightly-related to the post question for you, which I feel like you answered ages ago (it involved…diaper boxes? maybe?) but I’ve forgotten: where do you store all the hand-me-down clothes you don’t give away? Because I only have TWO kids and I can’t find a good system of transferring/storing clothes for later. Do you just take out from one drawer and put into next kid’s drawer? Or is there a lag? Or…what? Right now my three year old is wearing clothes WAY TOO SMALL because I am too lazy to rifle through all the bins looking for the next size and this happens every six months, driving me crazy. There has to be a better way, or I will just send my kids to school in high water pants and hope that is COOL.
Fish made out of ham – that’s in close running for when my friend’s daughter came to the table for ribs and said “oh, I LOVE pork on the cob”. Kids’ clothes – agh, I’m in denial. I like your Third Cat Position thinking. I sort of want to get a dog but I’m afraid.
All those near misses make my chest tight and also make me want to be a more careful driver. Sheesh!
I am surprised about the high-turnover-no-kill status. But really glad, too. I didn’t know those two things could go together.
Fish made out of ham is awesome! And my nerves would be SHOT if I encountered just one of your driving scenarios.
LOVED Henry’s comment on the turkey.
Ha ha ha ha, fish made of ham=turkey. Ha ha.
ssm- It is such a hassle, I’ve been tempted to just re-purchase clothes for each child. I use old moving boxes that are a nice size, and whenever I do a season change or the child outgrows a size, I load up boxes with the clothes. On the outside of the box, I tape a ziploc bag. In the ziploc bag I have an index card, and on the index card I write what’s in the box (“3T pants, 4T long-sleeve shirts, 3T swimsuit, size 7 shoes”) (the index card and baggie system is so I don’t have to keep crossing out and re-writing on the box). But it seems like the next kid never needs the same stuff at the same time, so I feel like I’m constantly hacking into one box for shirts, another for shoes. Arg.
Bibliomama- “Pork on the cob”?? AHA HA HA HA HA!!
Misty- I KNOW. It was weird, because where we moved from, there were terrible problems dealing with all the spare animals. So when we were HERE and ready to adopt a kitten, we waltzed in like “WE ARE HERE TO SAVE A KITTEN!” and they were all, “Sorry, if you want a kitten what you have to do is call us one minute after we open and see if we have any that day, and you should probably call from the parking lot because if we DO have any kittens, they’ll go fast.” Us: “…”
And it’s not just kittens: there are a few adult cats that are there every time we go for a long stretch (usually ones with very specific needs such as no other cats, no dogs, no kids, no loud sounds), but almost all the others change each time.
Ooh, cat picking is fun. Sadly, our 2nd cat seems to have gone missing for about a week now, so we may be cat shopping sometime in the future too. Our shelter is not a no-kill, so I have the opposite problem when I go in there!
(Must save them all! Can I take 7 home with me?!)
“Is this fish made out of HAM?” HAHHAHAHAA
See also: Pork on the cob. I can’t wait to break that out this summer.
fish out of ham made me laugh so hard I cried!! Then I saw pork on the cob and I think I peed my pants. Thanks Swistle and Bibliomama!!
Last night my almost-3-yr-old had steak and salmon on his plate. He finished both and yelled, “More chicken please!”
Meat education 0
Manners 1
The meat education fail still has me snorting with laughter, days later.
We have meat education fail too – Michael thinks EVERYTHING that isn’t a hamburger is chicken.