I know what I said, that I was through writing a bazillion posts about how cute, amazing and breathtaking my kids are.
I can’t help myself sometimes.
You see, ever since my youngest was very little, he thought that when people die, they come back to life as an animal.
He thinks he’s coming back as a dragonfly.
He always thought the animal that I am coming back as is a cat. Rightfully so. I am a bleeding heart for strays and if I wasn’t married and claiming my 15 minutes of fame as being on t.v for blogging, most likely you would have seen me on NBC Dateline as one of those crazy cat ladies with 150 cats in a tiny studio apartment.
Perhaps it’s a sickness, a crazy addiction. But hey, I can stop anytime I want. Either that or the city is going to come and take me and the cats away.
Tonight, as we were cuddling and I was screaming at him to hurry up and fall asleep because I have to feed another addiction…Twitter and the like…
He looked at me, so sweetly. “Mommy, when you’re dead and come back as a cat, how are you going to find me?”
I told him not to worry, that I’d find him. I would just follow my heart and some other mushy stuff because I can’t stand how much I love my children…
He thought about my answer for a split second and let it sink in for as long as his 6 year old self can let things sink in.
“Well Mommy. I’m just going to have to buy Scott’s house (our neighbor) when I get bigger and I’ll leave hundreds of notes all over kitchen tables (because that’s where all cats sit, right?) telling you where to find me. But, how will you be able to read human if you’re a cat” He stared deeply into my eyes and squeezed my arm…quite hard actually, I may have a little bruise. He was very concerned that he may have to figure out a way to learn to write cat language. Yes, I know. He’s a genius.
I reassured him, again, that he doesn’t need to go to all the trouble of learning a non-existent language just to write notes and leave them everywhere because, I promised, “I WILL find you.”
“And you’ll live with me forever and sleep on my bed forever, right Mom?”
“Oh yes, for sure I will. Now go to sleep and have good dreams.” I’m getting impatient. I love these little talks but by now, I have to pee and quite frankly, I’m over the kid thing for the night.
“But Mom? You won’t be like Delilah, will you?” Our possessed cat that we found in our friends backyard who never grew, is psycho and we can’t fix her because she always runs a low temperature so she always goes into heat and the doctors can’t perform the surgery. It’s gross, but remember, I’m a bleeding heart so she stays and excretes her nasty secretions during that particular time of the month.
“Nope, I won’t be like Delilah. Now GO TO SLEEP!” Starting to quake from Twitter withdrawal.
“Oh good Mommy. Because that stuff that comes out of her vagina is gross.” His eyes are half closed and he is mumbling.
“And so are her eye buggers.” He passes out, breathing deeply.
I kiss him all over his face and leave his room, which is a disaster from his play date who was here earlier, taking care not to step on the tiny legos because those HURT.
I laugh quietly because I’m thinking to myself, what if I did come back as a cat who lived at his house, perched on his kitchen table? Remember, I’m not thinking clearly because I am obviously going through traumatic stress due to withdrawal from the computer which I’ve been attached to all day…
I’d get back at him for all the times he had peed all over our house when he was little. And I’d win because my cat pee would smell worse than his human pee. For a lot longer time.