Wednesday, July 06, 2011
This time, it wasn’t my fault. Nope. Can’t blame me. Mr. A is trying…but he can’t pin this one on me.
Apparently, I ALLEGEDLY adopt a new animal every time he’s deployed. This, of course, isn’t true. But he likes to tell that “story” every time he’s around someone new. One time, ONE TIME, we adopted a maltipoo when he was in Iraq. That means EVERY TIME, I do that.
So here’s the real story…
The kids have been wanting a kitten. I’ve been telling them (because Mr. A tells everyone I’m responsible for our dearth of pets) that it’s up to Daddy. After all, Daddy is allergic to cats and, as he says, the only voice of reason when it comes to acquiring pets. I KNEW Mr. A would say “no.”
This weekend, we’re driving and he says aloud, “Look! The neighbor has a sign out offering a free kitten.” This sends the kids into a kitten-begging frenzy not seen since the great kitten giveaway in 1954. They beg, whine, and actually bat their eyelashes as we go for groceries, to Borders and Super Target.
But Mr. A is the self-described VOICE OF REASON! Which is why I’m so suprised when he says, “Hey, why don’t you run next door and see if you can borrow the kitten to see how she is?”
I’ve never seen two children move faster.
We had the kitten on the back porch exactly 2 minutes before he said, “Well, what shall we name her?”
Which is how we came to have a 9 week old, runt of the litter, kitten named Jelly.
The next night, we are hanging with friends, and he proceeds to tell everyone how I manipulated him into getting Jelly. He claims he “had to do it” so I wouldn’t adopt another pet while he’s in Afghanistan.
Our friends believed him, and promptly named ME an animal hoarder. Sigh.
The Assassin