|Mom and her fat cat|
When you hit middle age you really only have two choices: you can get fat and lazy until you roll over and die, or you can can get off your ass and do something, like maybe ride a bike.
I've also been told I have little tact, so if this offends you simply ride on.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
My Mom's fat cat
I'm going to visit my Mom today. Before my back issues, as a loyal son, I visited her every week, of course with my lumbar problems I have had a bit of a respite. However, now that my health is improving my visitation will start again. My brother says he, my sister, and I love our Mom dearly... honestly, what we really do is deal with her. Take her cat, for example. She named her cat Kitty (short for Kitty Cat) and she picked her up from the Humane Society shortly after my father died. In the 10 years since, then Kitty has grown to be humongous. Kitty literally weighs between 20 and 25 pounds. She is very fat, visualize a bowling ball with stubby legs. Lately my Mom has started telling people Kitty is big because she's a Maine Coon Cat. Kitty is a very fat Domestic Short Hair, who is barely a foot and a half long.
And my Mom has been telling everybody: at the Supermarket, at the library, even her Optometrist. That's right, my sister took with Mom to the eye doctor where she started a conversation with the receptionist by saying "You know, I have a Maine Coon Cat at home and I never knew they could get to be so big." And you can't correct her, even in private, because she gets very angry. As a result, we all end up sitting there listening to her prattle on about how she's told this person and that person how Kitty is a Maine Coon Cat. What she has is a really fat cat.
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