I have. A new recliner chair. It’s very comfy. but I am worried.
Mochi. Has decided that the best place to sleep is between my feet on the footrest. and when I have my laptop open I tend to. forget that he’s there.
I am going to dump him onto the floor.
Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow night but Eventually He will end up rudely dumped onto the floor, like so much salad.
Pictured: a cat unaware of the fate probably rapidly approaching him, despite me telling him three times now. He is too comfy to care.
Question: You dump your salads on the floor? Why?
Comorbid ADHD and carpal tunnel have lead to a disorder that I like to call “clumsy bitch syndrome” wherin if I get distracted or grab something wrong I will just… Drop whatever I’m holding? For some reason my favorite salad bowl is a regular victim. Also happens to piles of laundry, the TV remote, and sometimes knives.
I have a strict policy of never holding babies.
G U E S S W H A T I D I D
Mochi is either very forgiving or very bad at cause and effect.
Two different socks, t w o d I f f e r e n t s o c k s, T W O D I F F E R E N T S O C K S
They live in my shoes most of the time, so they’re the same by the most useful metric (Thickness).
In other news,
I tried to give mochi a headscritch while he was on the stairs.
my stairs are basically carpet-covered slabs of wood, with no “backing” so you can see through them. They’re also directly above the stairs that go down to the basement, so there’s a bit of a drop.
mochi
rolled over for bellyrubs
and fell
through the stairs
about six feet
before rolling over mid-air and catching himself on the floor/ledge above the basement stairs, claws digging into the wood like mufasa during that one scene that fucked up everyone’s childhood.
Unlike Mufasa
Mochi is both strong and not predestined to die for narrative purposes
so he hauled his fat ginger ass up over the ledge as I got to the bottom of the stairs.
he stared at me.
I stared at him.
Mochi then bellowed his loudest and most victorious of cat bellows, and threw himself into my chair and rolled over for bellyrubs. Which i gave him.
i am afraid
as Mochi is a ginger like my husband his father
that my son may have inherited my Clumsy Bitch Disease
A beautiful poem
*cracking up*
