Tuesday, May 16, 2006

There's No Guilt Like Mom Guilt

No, I haven't given up on journalling.  It's just that I got out of the habit when I had no time (when I was off being a Producer) and it's hard to get back in. 

A few weeks ago, I went to Arizona for my Dad's 70th birthday party and I still haven't unpacked.  And since I'm crazy planning my next vacation, I decided that -- whatever I got done last night, I was going to unpack the damn suitcase, dammit.

So, I did.  During commercials on 24.  It took all of 3 minutes, if that.  Dump the dirty clothes in the hamper; put the clean clothes back in my dresser; and shove the suitcase back in my closet.  Done!  How did I possibly let that sit around for weeks?

A couple hours later, I'm getting ready for bed.  (I'd also promised myself that I'd be in bed by midnight -- because this up-to-2:00-a.m. thing isn't doing me any good.)  So, around midnight, I'm brushing my teeth...

... here's the thing.  One time, when I was brushing my teeth, I gave the cat a belly-rub with my foot.  One time.  Ever since, she's considered the sound of the electric toothbrush to be a clue that she's going to get a belly rub.  Turn on the toothbrush, and there's Jasmine, flopped on the floor, paws all spread out, in the universally-recognized position of "oh yeah, belly rub!"

Last night, no Jasmine.  I'm thinking maybe I've thrown her off schedule by brushing a whole two hours earlier than usual.  I perform the rest of my evening toilette and still nothing.  Weird, but not unprecedented.  I'm about to jump into bed but figure I ought to take a sweep around the house and just check on her.  She's probably asleep in the other room.  I tiptoe in and check in the dark (not wanting to wake her with the light).  It's hard to tell, but I do not see a kitten-shaped shadow on the chair.  Or on the stereo.

And then I hear it.  Meowing.  Soft, tiny, pitiful meowing.

I turn on the light.

No cat.

Still meowing.

Oh no.

I throw open the closet door.  The meowing gets much louder, as a very frightened pair of green eyes stare back at me. 

:::sob:::  I locked my cat in the closet!  I'm the worst kitten mommy ever!

1 comment:

hewasolddog299 said...

Dear, Lucifer gets himself locked into *someplace* at least once a week ... and he's almost 7 years old! Don't let it bother you, just do what you've been doing -- make a sweep and listen for the silly animal's very quiet "meow" - they pitch it so low because they are embarassed that they did it again.

Damned cats.